


Points of View

by Lady_Slytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Compliant, Canon deaths, Gen, Hufflepuff, POV Minor Character, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-08-23
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Slytherin/pseuds/Lady_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not the story that everyone tells. It's not the story of the Gryffindor, who is brave and noble. It's the story of the outsider, the footnote. It's the story of the Hufflepuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Book One

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say, I don't own Harry Potter. When possibly, dialogue and events were taken directly from the book.

Stories are always told from the point of view of the hero who is brave and fearless and triumphs over evil, or else the villain who commits acts of evil but manages to redeem their self in the end. No story is ever told from the point of view of the nobody, the onlooker. Nobody ever tells the story of the Hufflepuff.

You are Hannah Abbott, and this is your story.

* * * * *

You open the letter with shaking hands, even though you already know what it will say. You’ve read your mother’s letter enough times by now to know the words by heart. She was always sentimental about that sort of thing, keeping her old books and school letters in an enchanted box. You wonder what books you will have, and what your teachers will be like. You wonder if your mother will take you to Diagon Ally for school supplies today.

“Mum?” you call. She enters the room, and you ask if she’ll take you. She agrees, and you send off a quick owl to Ernie, asking if he can meet you there. You wonder if he and Neville will be in same house as you. You wonder who else you’ll meet there.

You wonder if Hogwarts is as wonderful as everyone tells you it is.

* * * * *

“Please wait quietly,” Professor McGonagall tells the assembled first years, exiting the chamber. You stand a little closer to Ernie, unsure of whether you’re ready to have a hat look in your brain and pass judgment on you.

Ron Weasley tells the boy standing next to him that they get sorted by “Some sort of test, I think.” You shake your head, unable to believe that the Weasleys would choose not to tell their children how the Sorting works.

You spot Pansy, who looks rather green, and smile at her. You’ve known each other since you were three years old and at the same daycare. She is a member of one of the old families who have all been a part of the same House for generations. Her family expects her to be in Slytherin, or, at the very least, Ravenclaw. You’re glad that your family doesn’t have that kind of lineage. You don’t have to deal with any of the House rivalries getting in the way of you being put in the right house.

You flinch slightly as several ghosts float through the wall and into the room. They talk amongst themselves about someone named Peeves, until they notice you and the other first years. You recognize the Grey Lady from your mother’s description, but none of the others. One, a jolly looking witch, says that she hopes to see some of you in Hufflepuff. Before anyone can respond, Professor McGonagall reenters the room and escorts you into the Great Hall.

You listen intently during the Sorting Hat’s song, hoping that it will suddenly become clear to you which House you want to be a part of. Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad. It was your mother’s House, and one of the two Pansy could be Sorted into without enraging her parents. But you know that these aren’t really valid reasons for wanting to be in a House.

“Abbott, Hannah!” Professor McGonagall calls. You realize with a fresh wave of dread that you will be the first to be Sorted. It’s the curse of alphabetical fate. You walk to the front of the room, stumbling a little in you eagerness to get this over with, quickly pull the hat over your head, and wait.

“Well, you’re an easy enough one,” the Hat says. “Even now, part of you is thinking about your friends. That level of friendship belongs to a HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat yells that last part out loud, and you run to the cheering table and sit. A few minutes later, a girl name Susan sits down.

When it’s Neville’s turn, the Sorting takes so long that you begin to worry. When the hat finally yells “GRYFFINDOR!” you’re surprised. You know that he wanted to follow in his parents footsteps, but he seems more like a Hufflepuff. Ernie, to your delight, is sorted into your house. You are a little disappointed when Pansy is put into Slytherin, but you know that you’ll still have classes together, and you can’t honestly say you’re surprised.

Then “Potter, Harry,” is called, and you realize that the rumors on the train weren’t just rumors. Harry Potter walks up to the stool and sits down. The hat takes almost as long with him as it had with Neville, and when it shouts, “GRYFFINDOR!” he looks considerably relieved.

You are suddenly worried that Hufflepuff isn’t a good enough house. It might be silly, but you wonder if Gryffindor is really the right one to be in. Is it too late to switch?  
You go over in your mind what the hat said about Hufflepuffs. Just and loyal.

You decide that those are both things that you want to be, so you’ll carry the title proudly.

* * * * *

You’ve just sat down to the Halloween feast when Professor Quirrell runs into the room, screaming about a troll. You calmly follow Ginger MacDonald, the prefect, back to the common room. You’re scared, but you know that if you just do what Professor Dumbledore said to do, everything will be okay. You see Harry and Ron leaving their group, and wonder if you should tell someone. You don’t know whether they’re doing something they’ve been told to do, and it’d be a shame to get them into trouble over nothing.

Still, it’s better safe than sorry, so you tell Professor Sprout the minute you get back to Hufflepuff. She leaves at once in search of McGonagall.

* * * * *

The second your broom leaves the ground, you’re terrified. You tried to learn to fly as a little kid, and were quite good at it, until falling off one day when you were eight. You haven’t flown since, and even the act of being on a broom again makes you feel the same way you did the moment you realized you were falling. You’ve explained this to Madame Hooch, but she is determined that you try again. So here you are, leaning forward to land and hoping that the ground isn’t as far away as it seems. You know that Neville was pretty badly hurt in his first lesson, and you aren’t entirely confident that the same thing won’t happen to you.

What you’re really afraid of, although you won’t admit it to yourself, is being mocked.

* * * * *

You walk to the Quidditch Pitch with Susan, carrying yellow and black flags and chatting animatedly. There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach. Nobody ever figured out what had happened with Harry’s broom in the first match, and you find that just thinking about it still makes you queasy.

When you get to the Pitch, you settle yourself down to wait for the game to begin. As it turns out, waiting for the game takes longer than the game itself. Professor Snape is clearly favoring your team, but it doesn’t matter. Harry catches the Snitch within five minutes, ending the game abruptly. He’s an excellent player, but it doesn’t seem fair to you that the rule about first years owning brooms doesn’t apply to him. You’re a Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuffs play by the rules.

* * * * *

You see Neville get the letter. You see the blood rush out of his face, and his swift exit from the Great Hall. You follow him, wondering what on earth could be going on to make him look that way. “Neville!”

He spins around, tears running down his face. “Look. As if the fifty points weren’t bad enough,” he says, holding out the letter. You take it and read.

“Oh, Neville.”

“My detentions is with Filch. Filch! The only person in this school who hates me more than he does is Snape! I can’t believe Harry would do this to me!”

“Neville, it’s going to be okay.”

“I tried to help them,” he sobs. “I heard Malfoy talking, and I thought… I tried, you know? I was trying to be brave, for once. Trying to be a Gryffindor. But Harry didn’t want my help. He wanted to go running around after hours, breaking the rules again. Why does he always have to do that? It’s not fair. I tried.”

You have a vague idea of what happened, but you don’t know most of the details. This is not a good time to ask, so you hold your tongue, leaving the questions unasked.

* * * * *

Before you feel you’ve had time to learn much of anything, final exams are upon you. You don’t mind the written exams, but you have bad enough performance anxiety that the practical exams are pure torture. Charms isn’t too bad; Professor Flitwick has always been nice, and he let each of you do the exams separately so as to induce as little stress as possible. Besides, it isn’t particularly hard to make a pineapple tap dance. Herbology isn’t too bad either, even though it’s in front of everyone, because the whole class is so intent on their own work. And besides, you like Herbology.

It’s Transfiguration that really gets you. Not only is the exam in front of everyone, you have to Transfigure animals, and there is nothing you hate more. It just seems so inhumane to turn an animal into something else. You’re always plagued by questions about where its brain goes, and if it’s still conscious, even though Professor McGonagall has told you repeated times that it doesn’t hurt the animal. Still, you can’t see how it wouldn’t hurt a mouse to be turned into a snuffbox, which is nothing like a mouse at all.

Astronomy and Potions seem to go okay, although you never can be sure, and the last exam, to your extreme relief, is History of Magic. You’ve always enjoyed the concepts behind history, studying the patterns that make things happen, and even with Professor Binns being as boring as he is, you feel like you’ve managed to learn quite a bit in his class. After exams, you go back to the Common Room and sleep through dinner, which might matter if it weren’t for the sheer amount of food the House Elves had given you when you went to the kitchen for a snack to alleviate your stress at the beginning of finals.

* * * * *

“Congratulations on winning the House Cup,” you tell Pansy. She smiles and thanks you, the walks away. You wish that you had been able to spend more time with her this year, but as it turned out, both of you made friends in your own House, and it was far more convenient to stay in your own Common Room than to go outside and find your other friends. You promise yourself that next year you will make more time. Susan calls your name, and you wait until she and Ernie catch up to you before proceeding to the end-of-year feast.

Professor Dumbledore announces that House points, and you’re only a little disappointed to hear that Hufflepuff only got third place. He says that there are a few last minute points to dish out, which doesn’t surprise you. You’re a bit fuzzy on the details, but you’ve heard that Harry saved the world again, although everyone has a different theory as to how.

When the points are awarded, and Gryffindor wins, you clap with everyone else, but you’re secretly a little disappointed with Professor Dumbledore. It doesn’t seem quite fair, to pull a swap like that at the last minute, and not just because it leaves Hufflepuff in last place.

After the feast, you find Pansy crying in a bathroom, and you comfort her.

 

End Of Book One


	2. Book Two

You gape at the carriages. Last year they took you and the rest of the first years up by boat, so you’ve never seen carriages that pull themselves before.

“Come on!” Ernie urges, and you do. The carriage jostles as it begins to move. You smile politely at Hermione Granger, who is sitting in the corner, looking worried. She seems less sure of herself in the absence of her friends. She’s hunched over and biting her nails, and she’s not even reading a book.

“Where are Ron and Harry?” you ask.

Hermione bites her lip. “I don’t know! They weren’t on the train, and no one’s seen them anywhere!”

“They’ll turn up,” Susan says reassuringly. “They probably just missed the train. My mum says that’s happened a few times.”

“But they probably just came up by Floo Powder, or the Knight Bus. That would be the sensible thing to do.” Ernie catches your eye, and you know that you’re both wondering if Harry and Ron have ever to this point done the sensible thing.

“But they can’t have missed the train! The rest of Ron’s siblings were on it, and he and Harry were supposed to be with them! His little sister is really upset, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see him again!” Her lower lip quivers a bit, the way that yours does when you’re about to cry.

“It’ll be okay,” Susan promises, giving Hermione a hug. You nod in agreement, and Hermione manages a watery smile. None of you speak again until you’ve left the carriage and entered the Great Hall. You look over at the Gryffindor table every so often, but Ron and Harry never show up. The next day, Ron gets a Howler, and you suddenly understand why.

* * * * *

You see a red haired first year standing in the Entrance Hall and looking befuddled. You go up to her and ask what’s wrong.

“I don’t remember how I got here.”

“That’s not good,” you say, unsure how else to respond. “Did one of the older kids Confund you or something?”

“I don’t think so,” the girl replies, looking taken aback.

You look around, unsure of what to do, when your eyes land on a Gryffindor prefect. He has red hair and freckles, and you are fairly certain that he’s this girl’s brother. “Excuse me?” you call. He turns around and walks over.

“How may I help you?”

“Your sister is…” you begin, but the girl is shaking her head frantically from behind him. “Is feeling sick,” you finish lamely. You have no idea what could be going on with her if she really wasn’t Confunded, and it really isn’t your business, anyways. You might as well let her decide for herself what to share with her brother.

“Are you, Ginny? Why didn’t you say something? I’ll take you to the hospital wing straight away. Thank you, Miss…?”

“Abbott. Hannah Abbott.”

“Thank you, Miss Abbott.

* * * * *

The Halloween feast this year far surpasses last years, mostly because it’s really not that hard to top a feast that included a teacher running in during the middle, screaming about a troll. There are many theories regarding Professor Quirrell’s not returning this year, including that he was fired, that he’s really a squirrell, that he had You-Know-Who on the back of his head (Who came up with THAT one?) and that he was still at Hogwarts, cleverly disguised as a suit of armor. Professor Dumbledore had never properly explained what had happened. He didn’t explain much, really, like why the third floor corridor (on the right hand side) is no longer forbidden.

You know that you’ll never really be able to understand Professor Dumbledore. Why, for example, would you make a forest forbidden and then turn around and send first years there for detention? Neville hadn’t been the same for weeks. You are thinking about this so intently that at first you don’t notice Ernie repeating your name.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I wanted you to pass me the pudding. Sheesh, you looked like you’d been hit with a Bedazzling Hex. “

You pass the pudding across the table, realizing with a start that your dinner has disappeared to make room for dessert. You can’t remember if you ate any of it at all. Hoping that something made it into your stomach, you help yourself to some treacle tart. As you are finishing eating, Professor Dumbledore stands and claps once.

“Ah! Another wonderful Halloween here and gone. And now it is time for us to say farewell and retreat to our Houses. Good night!”

You follow Ernie up the stairs. On the second floor there’s a crowd gathered around the girl’s bathroom. Your first thought is to wonder what on earth Myrtle could have done this time. Draco Malfoy, your Charms partner, shouts something unintelligible from the front of the crowd. There’s loud voices, and you think you hear Filch shouting about Mrs. Norris. You crane your neck, but you’re just not tall enough to see. Ernie is standing on his tiptoes. Justin Finch-Fletchley pushes his way towards you, looking worried.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but that Malfoy kid said something about Mudbloods, and I can’t think of any situation where that would be a good thing, can you?” You nod in agreement, and tell Ernie that it’s time to leave. You’re starting to panic, and you’ve never been very good with crowds. High anxiety, or something like that. The Healers you’d talked to as a kid recommended a potion you could take, but you’ve always hated taking potions when you don’t have to. You’ve misbrewed enough potions to be aware of the danger.

“You go,” he says. “I want to see what’s going on.”

“You’re never going to be able to get past this lot. Come on, we can find out first thing tomorrow.”

Ernie finally agrees, under the condition that you be ready to leave the common room to investigate by no later than 6:30 in the morning. As is turns out, other people have the same idea. You run into Pansy by the Entrance Hall. “Have you seen it yet?” She asks. When you shake your head, she leads you and Ernie to the second floor. There’s a crowd surrounding the bathroom, but it’s much smaller than the one there was there last night, and people move aside so that you can get to the front.

Painted across the wall in what looks like blood is THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

Ernie says something about Hogwarts, a History, and you leave at once in search of it. You’ll do anything for pure, simple answers. You get to the library just before 7:00, and by this point, there’s only one copy left. You check it out and lead Ernie and Pansy to a round table on the edge of the library. The Table of Contents proves unhelpful, and you worry that you will have to perform the search manually.

“I’ve got it!” Pansy cries. “Mum taught me this spell over the summer. She said it’d help with my studying. “Verbum Invenire!” she cries. The book flies open to Chapter Five (Slytherins’s Departure.) You read about the founders, and Slytherin’s selectivity in choosing students. About the arguments that broke out, Slytherin’s leaving, and the revenge he took by sealing the Chamber- with a monster inside. When you finish the chapter, the book jumps ahead to near the end, and you read about the Chamber’s reopening fifty years ago, and the girl that died.

For once, you are utterly and completely glad to be a Hufflepuff.

“So it was Slytherin that started it all. Figures,” Ernie says.

“Excuse me?” Pansy stands up and puts her hands on her hips. You’ve always avoided the topic of Muggle-borns around her, never sure of how she will react. It looks as if now you might be finding out. “Might I remind you of what house I’m in?”

“Yeah, but you don’t honestly buy into that pureblood elitist stuff, do you?”

She hesitates. “I don’t know. I mean, Mud- Muggle-borns aren’t really- like us, are they?”

“Great. You’re just like the founder of your wonderful house, thinking Purebloods can do whatever they want, and Muggle-borns deserve to die.”

“I never said that they deserved to die! They’re not like us, but they don’t deserve to die!”

Ernie just glares at her. She stares back, until he ends up looking away. “I should go. Bye, Hannah!” Pansy turns and leaves the room.

“God, I can’t stand that girl. Why do you even talk to her?” Ernie explodes. You want to chastise him for being so mean to your friend, but you don’t wand to seem like you support Pansy’s views, with are extremely unsettling. So+ you shrug and stand up, returning the book to Madame Pince.

* * * * *

The second attack is on Colin Creevey, a first year student you’ve seen around school. He goes from being annoying to being a celebrity in a day, but he’s not awake to witness the transition. You’re absolutely terrified that you or your friends will be next. You’ve begun walking around in packs of people, hoping for safety in numbers. Deep down, you know that this isn’t true. There’s no safety.

Maybe that’s why you join the Dueling Club. Maybe it’s the same safety instinct that drives you to walk around with your friends. But as it turns out, the Dueling Club is a big fat waste of time.

“Expelliarmus!” you shout. Ernie’s wand jerks a little, but doesn’t actually leave his hand. He makes an attempt, with similar results. Neither Professor Lockhart nor Professor Snape even tried to explain how to do this spell, so it’s no wonder you can’t figure out how to make it work. Neville’s spell misses Justin by a mile, instead hitting Ernie, who is thrown off his feet.

Professor Lockhart stops the chaos and chooses two “volunteers” to demonstrate. Unsurprisingly, one of them is Harry. It seems as if every time anything happens at Hogwarts, it happens to him. His partner is Draco Malfoy, who has a notorious grudge against him. You shiver, sure that this can’t end well.

Draco raises his wand and yells, “Serpensortia!” A black snake flies from it. You almost scream, but stop yourself just in time.

“Don’t move, Potter,” Professor Snape says. “I’ll get rid of it.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Allow me!” shouts Professor Lockhart. The snake goes flying through the air, landing with a thunk right next to Justin. His face goes pale, and you wonder if there’s something, anything you can do to make the snake go away. You and Justin aren’t very close, but he’s Ernie’s best friend, and you really don’t want anything bad to happen to him. It’s so quiet at first that you don’t notice anything, except for the strange hush that has fallen over the crowd. Then you hear it- a strange sort of hissing sound. It takes you a second to realize that the sound if coming from Harry, and then it’s over.

* * * * *

“Hello,” Harry says. “I’m looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley.” You stare at him in horror. You hadn’t believed Ernie, not really, but now that you’re confronted with this, you’re beginning to worry.

“What do you want with him?” Ernie asks, sounding scared.

“I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club.”

“We were all there. We saw what happened.”

“Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?” You had noticed that, actually. It was one of the holes you’d noticed in Ernie’s theory.

Ernie, pigheadedly in you opinion, continues to snap at Harry, going even so far as to tell him just how many generations back his family’s magical roots can be traced. Harry finally loses his patience and leaves. Ernie takes out his potions textbook and opens it to a random page, making it clear that he doesn’t want to be spoken to. After a few minutes, you get up and leave. Susan and Zach follow.

On the way back to the common room, you run into Pansy. You are about to say hi when she pointedly turns around and walks the other way. You haven’t spoken to her since the day you read Hogwarts, a History, but you thought that it was just because you were both too busy.

You’ll have to owl her later and ask what’s going on.

* * * * *

You’ve never seen Ernie cry before. Not when Hufflepuff came in last for the House Cup, not when he didn’t’ get picked for the Quidditch team, not even when Marcus Flint hit him with a Stinging Hex back in October.

The evening after Justin is found Petrified, Ernie cries in the common room for hours.

* * * * *

Last year you stayed at school for Christmas. That was last year.

This year, all you want to do is escape, get away from all of the fear and the feelings and the memories. Everywhere you go reminds you of Justin. You can’t enter a classroom or utter a spell without thinking of being in that class with Justin, watching Justin learn that spell. You and him weren’t even very good friends, but you’re still feeling wretched, and every time you see Ernie look over as if to say something and then realize that the person he wanted to say it to isn’t there, a part of you breaks.

So you run away, go home. The nice thing about being a Hufflepuff is that they understand that sometimes you need to run away, and there’s no shame in it. Ravenclaws would only run away if it was the logical conclusion, and Slytherins and Gryffindors have to much pride to run. Hufflepuffs don’t care about pride. Hufflepuffs can run away if they need to.

Only going home for Christmas doesn’t help. Your mum fusses over you, and Neville visits, and Pansy responds to your owl with an apology for snubbing you, but Ernie doesn’t leave his house, and his absence is like a gaping hole. You don’t even know what’s going on at school, and it scares you, to think of who could be dead or Petrified by the time you get back. You’re scared, and running away doesn’t help.

Last year, you stayed at school for Christmas. That was last year.

* * * * *

Time and emotions work in funny ways. Your first thought when Professor Sprout says that the game is cancelled is annoyance. Hufflepuff’s team is really good this year, and you’re sure that they can win if they’re given the chance. What ‘s so important that they would cancel a Quidditch game?

Professor Sprout takes everyone back to the common room and explains about Hermione and Penelope Clearwater. It takes a little while for the information to sink in, and, try as you might, you can’t shake your annoyance about the game. It’s such a small thing, so insignificant in the face of all that has happened, of all that is continuing to happen, but you can’t get the small thing out of your head.

You see Ernie sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, and go over to sit with him. “You can’t still think it’s Harry. He would never do that to Hermione.”

“I know,” Ernie says gloomily. “It never really made much sense, did it? Why would the Boy Who Lived attack Muggle-borns? It was just clutching at straws.” You think that this may be the most sensible you’ve seen him all year. Then he goes and ruins it. “Hey, maybe that Draco Malfoy kid’s the Heir of Slytherin!”

You’re unsure of whether to respond. You feel like you should say something, but you don’t want to crush his hope. Ernie has all of these heroic ideas about swooping in and defeating the Chamber’s monster, being the one to save Justin, and you don’t want to be the one to crush his dream. So you smile and say, “Yeah. Maybe.”

* * * *

Nothing is the same with Dumbledore gone. Pansy is talking to you again, but there’s a weird tension that there never was before, and your friendship seems strangely forced. You avoid the topic of Muggle-borns, but you know that you can’t avoid it forever.

Ernie has become quieter, almost subdued. The longer Professor Dumbledore is gone, the harder it is to feel hope of any kind. So when Professor Sprout asks you to gather in the common room, you don’t feel surprised, only numb, and you wonder who was attacked this time.

“I’m afraid something rather- horrible- has happened,” she says, tears running down her face. “A student has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. The school will, of course, be closing. It would be good to pack your bags tonight. We’ll be leaving first thing in the morning.” Through your numbness you feel a weird sense of longing for your mother, and she are suddenly flooded with wanting, no, needing, to be home with her where everything is safe, and if something happens she can just come in and make it better. You know that that’s unrealistic, and that your mother won’t always be there to protect you, but that knowledge isn’t as strong as the want.

Everyone is silent for a moment. Then a sixth year named Bruce asks, “Which student was taken?”

Professor Sprout hesitates for a moment, then says, “Ginny. Ginny Weasley.” Several first years begin to cry. You remember finding her alone and confused in the beginning of the year, but you push the thought away. You can’t let yourself feel. You are numb. You want your mother, and everything’s awful, and you don’t blame Professor McGonagall for wanting to close the school one bit.

* * * *

“Everyone wake up!” Professor Sprout calls. you are instantly awake, wondering what’s happened now. It takes you a moment to realize that her voice sounds happy. “Ginny is alive! That Chamber has been found, the heir’s caught, and the monster’s dead! Quick, get to the Great Hall, and Professor Dumbledore can explain.” You have no idea what’s going on, but you hardly care. You suddenly feel alive, and you let that feeling of life push through the numbness and take hold of you.

 

End of Book Two


	3. Book Three

On the front page of the Daily Prophet is face. Underneath it, in bold letters, read the words AT LARGE. You sit down on the top step and peruse the article. It tells you that the man in the picture is Sirius Black, a follower of You-Know-Who, and that he has broken out of Azkaban, where he was taken after murdering thirteen people with a single curse. There’s a thousand galleon price on his head. You look back that the picture, watch the bedraggled man laughing maniacally. You shudder, before retreating to the safety of your room. As far as you know, nobody’s ever broken out of Azkaban before. Your dad was an Auror, and before he left, you remember him talking about there being enough dangerous criminals in there to destroy everything the Wizarding world had worked so hard to build. You worry that this break out will be the first of many.

* * * * *

You slide open the door to the compartment and step inside. You sit down between Susan and Zach, placing the pile of sweets in the middle of the room.

“So, what electives are you guys taking?” Susan asks, reaching for a Cauldron Cake.

“I’m doing Muggle Studies and Arithmancy,” Ernie says. “I thought about taking Care of Magical Creature, too, but I don’t know how much help that’ll be in the future, you know?”

“What about you, Hannah?”

“Muggle Studies and Ancient Runes.”

“Oh, good, we’ll be taking one together! I’m taking Ancient Runes, too. Is anyone else taking Divination, or is it just me?” Susan turns to the others.

“I am,” Zach says. “And Care of Magical creatures.”

“I’m taking Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Arithmancy,” Justin says.

“You’re taking three?” Ernie asks. You know that he likes to be the best at everything, and you’d bet your cauldron that he’s wishing he’d signed up for three.

“Well, I figure I’ll probably end up dropping one, so I decided to do an extra,” Justin explains.

Ernie nods, still frowning. You are about to say something that will cheer him up when the train begins to slow. “Oh, good. We must be almost there.”

Ernie checks his watch, and his frown deepens. “Can’t be. We shouldn’t be there for another half and hour or so.”

“Maybe we’re early?” Susan suggests, but you all know that that can’t be right. The train goes the same speed every time. It’s not like there’s traffic or delays to affect it.

The train stops, jerking so much that you are thrown from your seat. The lights go out and you’re left in the darkness. “Someone’s getting on the train,” Zach whispers. When it’s this dark and this cold, whispering is the only thing that feels natural. You want to reach out for someone’s hand, for comfort, but you can’t see a thing, and even if you could, you would probably be too embarrassed. You wonder if everyone else is as scared as you, or if you’re just a wimp.

“Lumos,” Ernie whispers. By the light of his wand, you can see silhouettes of hooded figures through the clear door of your compartment. The air seems to be a little bit colder, and you shudder. It was cold like this the day your dad left. Not the air; it was a perfectly warm summer day, but the cold inside of you was just like this. A wave of sadness sweeps over you, and you are filled with the remembering, first just of that day, but then of other things. Of the day you fell off your broomstick and first fully realized that you could die, that someday you would. Of seeing Justin’s body lying on the ground as though dead. Of the time you got lost at Gringotts and thought that you would never find your way out. Of when you found out that your favorite Aunt had disappeared and never returned.

Then the cold begins to retreat, and the lights go on, and then, finally, even the memories start to leave you. You look at your friends. For a very long time, no one speaks. Then Justin looks up. “What were those things? Are they just some Wizarding thing that I don’t get because I’m just a Muggle-born?” He’s never referred to himself in that way before, and you wonder how those- things- affected him.

Zach shakes his head. “No way, mate. I’m a halfblood, and I have no idea. But they weren’t-- they weren’t human.”

“They were Dementors,” Susan whispers, holding her legs and rocking slowly back and forth. “May Auntie Amelia- she’s head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, at the Ministry. She hates making people wait in Azkaban because they guard it, the Dementors, they guard Azkaban.”

“Didn’t someone just break out of Azkaban?” Zach asks.

You nod. “Sirius Black.” The face form the paper is seared into your brain so well that you doubt you’ll ever forget it.

“Azkaban?” Justin asks weakly.

“The Wizarding prison,” Ernie explains quietly.

None of you can think of anything to say after that, so you just stay quiet until the train reaches Hogwarts.

* * * *

You shiver a little as you’re forced to go past the Dementors, but they can’t touch you today. Nothing can. Today you are going to Hogsmeade.

Ernie is trying to hide his excitement in a dignified manner, but his eyes give it all away. Susan is practically bouncing, and Justin’s voice, when he speaks, is a pitch higher than usual. Zach is talking about Quidditch, and seems even more animated than he normally is. Every since he made the House team as a Chaser, he’s been talking nonstop about Hufflepuff’s chances at the Cup.

“Cedric says that the team’s really better than it’s ever been, we really could win the cup this year. We have some really superb players.”

“Yeah?” Ernie says. He tried out for the team again this year and didn’t make it, but he’s confided to you that he doesn’t think he’s going to try out again. He explained that Quidditch doesn’t really interest him anymore. You don’t know whether you believe him, but you think he believes himself, and you’re really impressed with how well he’s handing that Zach did make the team.

“Yeah, I mean, Sam and Travis are obviously the best Beaters we’ve had in a long time, they might even rival the Weasley twins, and-“

“We’re almost there,” Justin says, cutting across Zach’s diatribe. “Where should we go first?”

“Ooh, let’s go to Honeydukes!” Susan says.

“Okay, but after that we need to check out the Shrieking Shack. I’ve gone up there with my parents a couple of times, but they never let me get really close,” Ernie says.

“You’ve been here before?” Justin asks.

“Well, yeah.” Ernie looks surprised by the question.

“Have all of you been here before?” Justin asks, looking around.

“I’ve only been here twice,” Susan says. Justin doesn’t talk much after that.

 

* * * * *

You have just sat down on your favorite armchair when Professor Sprout enters the common room, looking worried. You are forcibly reminded of last year, when she came to tell everyone that Ginny Weasley had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Oh god. This had better not be something like that.

“Sirius Black has broken into the castle,” she explains breathlessly. “I’m to take all of you to the Great Hall. He’s probably gone by now, but we can’t be sure until the teachers look. Come along, then. Follow the prefects.” You look at Ernie, but his face is stiff, and you can’t read anything from it. You know this must be bad, if he’s so hidden. You’ve always been able to read him like a book. You are freaking out and oh god what’s going to happen and this is terrible and what if you die the last thing you told your mum was that you’d see her at Christmas and this is scary and why did Sirius Black have to break out anyways it’s unfair, well, okay, maybe unfair is the wrong word, but-

“Follow me to the Great Hall,” Cedric Diggory calls calmly. You follow, trying to ignore your thoughts and telling yourself that it’ll all be okay. When you get there, Professor Dumbledore gives a harried explanation and Conjures some sleeping bags so that everyone can spend the night. You leave your fellow Hufflepuffs when you spot Pansy in a corner surrounded by her Slytherin friends.

“Can I sit here?” you ask. Pansy nods, looking considerably surprised.

“Daphne, Millicent, this is Hannah Abbott. Hannah, this is Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode.”

“Pleasure,” Millicent drawls. “You’re in Hufflepuff, right? I’ve seen you in Ancient Runes.” You nod.

“Speaking of electives, did you hear what happened to Draco during Care of Magical Creatures?” Pansy says. “He got attacked by a hippogriff! That Hagrid man is a brute!”

“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” the Head Boy yells. “Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!”

Daphne, a small girl with an upturned nose, scoots closer and whispers, “So, Hannah, how do you think Black made it in?”

“Maybe he disguised himself as a Dementor,” you suggest. “That’s the only way I can think of that he wouldn’t be seen.”

Millicent snorts, and is about to respond when Zach yells, “Hannah! Get your butt over here!” You grab your sleeping bag and go towards him, quickly saying goodbye to Pansy and her friends.

“The lights are going out now!” the Head Boy shouts. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!” The lights go out right as you lay your sleeping bag next to Zach and Susan. You slip into the bag and look up at the stars.

“Good night, Hannah,” Zach whispers.

“G’night.”

You wake up with the sun. It must be around six or so, but once you’re up, you can’t get back to sleep. You’ve never been able to sleep when there’s any light around. You are about to sit up when you hear Pansy’s voice coming from several feet away.

“She’s really not that bad. She’s just… a Hufflepuff, you know?”

“I know. But Black disguising himself as a Dementor? What the hell kind of a theory is that?”

“Next she’ll be saying he can turn into a flowering shrub,” Daphne laughs.

“How do you know each other, anyways?”

“I’ve known her since we were kids. We went to daycare together for a while. I taught her to ride a toy broomstick when we were three.”

Your blood runs cold as you realize who they’re talking about, and you suddenly feel like a small, stupid little kid trying to hang around with teenagers. You wish that everyone else would wake up so that the tables can go back to where they belong so that you can grab a piece of toast and go eat it on the grounds, far away from Pansy.

Just to spite stupid Daphne Greengrass, you decide to spend the next several days telling people that Sirius Black can, in fact turn into a flowering shrub.

* * * * *

You go to the Quidditch game to cheer for Zach, but it’s raining so hard that you may as well just have stayed in the common room. You can barely see what’s going on, and you can’t hear the commentary at all, which would have mattered except that Lee Jordan can only see about as well as you can.

Susan enchants your gloves to repel water so that you don’t get totally soaked, and you sit through the match with her and Ernie, speculating on what might be happening.

Then a streak of yellow, and then one of read, race through the air, and you know that someone must have seen the Snitch. you lean forward, cheering Cedric’s name, when you realize that your cheers seem muted. A wave of cold washes over you, and you see a huge group of Dementors gliding across the Pitch. You put your hands over your ears, but it doesn’t stop the memories from flooding your brain. You try to focus on anything else, like what’s going on in the game, but that turns into Dementors have shown up which turns back into your dad leaving, telling you that it’s for work, that he didn’t have a choice, but you know he could have refused the Transfer to the Australian ministry if he had really wanted to, and he’s hugging you goodbye but you don’t want to look at him, and you can’t look at him or you’ll start to cry, and your mum stayed in her bedroom and didn’t come out until he had stepped into the fire and called out “Australian Ministry of Magic!” and-

Professor Dumbledore yells something indistinguishable and a silvery light bursts out of his wand, causing the Dementors to retreat. You look up at the players in time to see Harry falling to the ground.

It doesn’t seem fair to you when Hufflepuff wins the match, and there is no celebratory party in the common room afterwards.

* * * * *

“It’s so stupid,” Zach says, pacing the common room in an agitated manner. “We’ve never played that badly before, and it was a big deal game! Our one chance at winning our House some glory, and we went and lost it.”

“Are you out of the running for the cup, then?” you ask.

“Unless we can beat Slytherin next week, but I really don’t see how we can. They’re really good.” The more Zach talks the faster he paces, until he is practically running back and forth across the room, a sight that might be funny if he weren’t so worked up.

“Maybe the whole team felt so bad about what happened last time that they overcompensated by playing badly,” Ernie suggests.

“Not helpful,” you say before Zach can respond.

“What I really can’t believe is that Chang got the Snitch right from under Cedric’s nose. He’s a better Seeker than her!”

“Maybe he fancies her,” Ernie suggests. Zach throws a book at him.

* * * * *

“So, how are you, Pansy?” your mum asks, setting a plate in front of each of you. “I feel like we never see you these days.”

“Well, I’ve been busy,” Pansy replies, biting into her sandwich. Tomato juice runs down her chin and she dabs it with a napkin.

“Well, of course you are, what with all of the homework you girls get. Hannah’s been working on her Muggle Studies project all week. I don’t remember working that much during school, and I was a Ravenclaw!”

“It certainly is a lot of work. I can’t imagine how much we’ll be doing once we start properly preparing for our O.W.L.s.” Pansy is always so composed around adults, a trait that you envy. The last time you went to her house, you were ten years old, and you were so nervous that you managed to levitate her mother’s chair. Pansy’s mum is really a sweet woman, and she was really nice about it, but since then you and Pansy have always spent time at your house.

“What classes are you taking?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. My electives are Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Arithmancy.”

“You’re taking a pretty full load! Any more classes and you’d need to apply for a Time-Turner!” your mother says brightly. “I only know one person who did that, mind, and he had a terrible time of things!”

“It would be pretty hard,” Pansy agrees. She catches your eye, and you look away. You both know perfectly well that there’s a reason that you haven’t had her over at all break, but she doesn’t know what the reason is. You’re not very good at confrontation, so you never brought it up, but this morning she Flooed you, and you didn’t want to lie and sat you were busy.

“So, what have you been up to lately?” your mum asks. Pansy talks about visiting her boring Great-Aunt, and attending the Greengrass Christmas party, which you didn’t receive an invitation to. You realize with a pang of guilt hat you’ve barely said to words to Pansy since she got here, so when she suggests a walk in the garden, you agree.

“What the hell is going on?” she demands the minute you close the door.

“What do you mean?”

“You bloody well know what I mean! Why are you avoiding me at school? Why did you ignore my owls! And why did you sit there for twenty minutes while your mum grilled me about school?” She looks close to tears.

You look down, not sure of how to answer. Finally, you quietly say, “I heard you. Talking about me. After the break-in?”

“That’s all this is about? Hannah, grow up. I was defending you, and the things Daphne and Millicent said weren’t even that bad, okay?” At least she doesn’t try to deny that she was talking about you. You absolutely hate when people do that.

“It really hurt my feelings,” you tell her, hating yourself more with every word that leaves your mouth. Maybe you are acting like a little kid. Maybe Pansy will go back to school complaining that you are just a whiny Hufflepuff, after all.

“Well, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. Now, can you get over yourself so that we can actually have some fun?” You know full well that that’s the best apology you’re going to get out of Pansy, so you nod. “Perfect. I have a plan. With maps.” She reaches into her bag and pulls them out. “We’re going to sneak into the Goyle’s house and trick Greg into thinking that they’ve got a poltergeist. He’s not the brightest, and he blew me off to hang out with Daphne.”

“Isn’t that illegal? You’re suggesting that we break into somebody’s house!”

“It’s just Greg. Besides, that’s half the fun. Where’s your sense of adventure!” You don’t know what to do. You don’t want to break the law, but it’s been so long since Pansy included her in one of her schemes. In the end, you agree.

* * * * *  
You get the owl your first day back.

Dear Hannah,  
I guess we forgot to factor in Greg being too thick to recognize a poltergeist when he sees one. And the part where we both had to be home by nine. Oh, well, next time then.  
-Pansy.

* * * * *

“YOU’VE BROUGHT SHAME UPON THE GOOD NAMES OF YOUR PARENTS AND ENDANGERED THE LIVES OF EVERYONE AT HOGWARTS! YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE NAME OF WIZARDRY AND I AM ASHAMED TO CALL YOU MY GRANDSON!”

You know this voice; it belongs to Neville’s grandmother and it is coming from the Entrance Hall. You cringe as you realize that this can only mean one of two things, neither of them good: a surprise visit or a Howler. You are incredibly sorry for Neville.

You’re also scared for your life.

This is the second time Sirius Black has made it into Hogwarts, and if he can make it past the Dementors, all the increased security in the world can’t keep him out. Your mum sent you an owl yesterday asking if you wanted to come home, and although you already said no, you’re beginning to rethink your answer.

* * * * *

After days, and then weeks, of school uninterrupted by Sirius Black, you think you may be in the clear, and soon after that, exam week is upon you. Transfiguration is a complete disaster (turning inanimate objects into animals is better than transfiguring animals, but not by much. Your exam seems to be going quite well until your tortoise starts spewing tea out its mouth. You start to giggle until you see the stern look on Professor McGonagall’s face, and you don’t know how to tell her that it reminded you of the time that Susan accidentally levitated Ernie’s teapot in the common room.)

Potions goes a little bit better, although your Confusing Concoction is a bit too blue, and Herbology goes quite well. Charms seems to go just fine, and Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies only require written exams.

It’s your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam that you manage to completely botch. Somehow the hinkypunk leads you back to the grindylows, who grab you and drag you to the boggart, who turns into Pansy sucking the blood out of Ernie, and- well, it’s a mess, anyways. Professor Lupin pulls you aside afterwards and says that the only way you can go on the 4th year defense is if you get a student to tutor you. He suggest Padma Patil or Sally-Anne Perks.

* * * * *

Once again, Sirius Black is front page news. The story of his capture and escape on Hogwarts grounds is alarming, particularly because you knew nothing about it until it was over.

Pansy runs across the Great Hall towards you, and at first you think that she’s just seen the article. When she reaches you, however, you see that she has a weird, almost maniacal look on her face. “Did you hear? Lupin’s a werewolf! Can you believe it? He’s leaving Hogwarts later today.” She looks like she’s come over to inform you that someone just gave her a bag of candy, and she’s willing to share.

“That’s great,” you say weakly. She flounces off, probably to spread the news even further.

Ernie looks at you. “I really can’t stand that girl.”

You can’t bring yourself to disagree with him.

You spend the entirety of the closing feast staring at Professor Lupin’s empty seat and trying not to cry. When you leave the Great Hall, Zach takes one look at your face and says, “Come on.” You let him take your hand and lead you to the Astronomy Tower. When you get there, he lets go and takes several pieces of paper out of the pocket of his robes. “I always do this when I’m sad,” he explains. He folds the paper into airplanes and charms it to flash yellow and black, then throws it off the high balcony. It flies in circles, going lower and lower until it lands on the ground and stops flashing.

He turns to you and holds out a piece of paper. “Your turn.”

End of Book Three


	4. Book Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that I have yet to thank my beta. So thank you, Stormbrain.
> 
> And I don't own the rights to Harry Potter, yadda yadda yadda.

You aren’t a very big fan of Quidditch. You’d rather go to a play with your mum, or play a nice game of Wizarding Chess. Even so, when your mum twists and you feel the familiar sensation of being pushed through a small space (you’d rather have taken a portkey, but your mum always insists on Side-Along Apparition), you can’t help but feel a little bit excited. You are greeted by a smiling woman in a pinstriped dress and combat boots.

“Elizabeth!” Your mum exclaims.

The woman smiles tightly. “Mrs. Abbott. And this must be your daughter.”

“Yes, yes, this is Hannah. Would you mind telling us…?”

“Oh, yes, of course.” The woman consults her list. “First field to the left, ask for Mr. Jenkins.”

You follow your mum to the field and find the site manager. He tells you that you’re at site 87 and hands each of you a map. Your mum pays and kisses you on the cheek. “Go on and find your friends. Come check in around 4:30 and we can go get seated.”

You look at your map and quickly find the site where Zach and Ernie are staying. They went out an owl yesterday saying where they would be, and that they’d invited all of the Hufflepuffs in the Fourth Year to come have a pre-game celebration. You have to use the Four-Point Spell multiple times to avoid getting lost. Your mum taught you how to use it after realizing that you had zero sense of direction.

Finally, you reach the right campsite, which is bedecked in Hufflepuff colors. Zach notices you first and runs forwards to tackle you in a bear hug. “You made it!”

“Yeah, I made it. What’s with the colors? Thought they were supposed to be the team we’re supporting. You know Hufflepuff’s not actually playing, right?”

“We didn’t want to make anyone feel bad for not supporting the same team as us. We’re all here to celebrate being friends, not argue about Quidditch,” Ernie explains, walking over and handing you a butterbeer.

“So, who all’s here?” you ask, taking the bottle and twisting it open.

“Us, and Susan and Justin. And Sally-Anne Perks.” That’s unexpected. You knew that the whole Fourth year had been invited, but you didn’t really think anyone from outside your immediate group of friends would show up. Sally-Anne is a tall, pretty girl who always manages to make you feel awkward and young. She spends most of her time with Cedric and his friends, although they’re several grades above her. Apparently she and Cedric knew each other when they were younger, or something. There’s really nothing wrong with her except that she’s just too pretty. She master the use of makeup glamours before you and Susan even began attempting them, and somehow the Hogwarts robes look better on her than anyone else.

“Hi,” you tell her awkwardly. She smiles and crosses her legs on the log she’s sitting on.

You are saved from having to make small talk when Susan flies towards you across the campsite and jumps off her broom. “I’m so excited! Aren’t you excited! Can you believe England’s hosting the cup?” You grin. Sometimes Susan’s enthusiasm is hard to handle, but today it’s perfect. “Everyone showed up except for Eloise Midgen, and it sounds like she couldn’t get tickets,” she continues.

“That’s too bad.” Secretly, though, you’re a little glad that she couldn’t come. Eloise makes you even more uncomfortable than Sally-Anne. She might be pretty if she didn’t have so much acne, and she always feels compelled to bring it up, like she wants you to lie and say no, she’s really quite pretty, only you’re a Hufflepuff, and Hufflepuffs suck at lying.

“Hey, I learned a new charm. Wanna see?” Susan asks, pulling out her wand. She mutters and incantation, and then you can’t see her. It isn’t a Disillusionment Charm, more like a distraction spell. It’s not that you don’t see her so much as that you can’t properly look at her.

“You clever girl! Where did you learn the Notice-Me-Not Charm?” You know Sally-Anne means well, but it comes out sounding like a teenager complimenting a younger kid.

“That was really cool,” you tell Susan as she reappears. “Can you teach me that?”

“Sure. It’s not actually that hard.”

Sally-Anne stands abruptly. “I’m going to find Cedric and Katherine. I’ll see you all later, okay?”

You nod, and she walks quickly away from the campsite. You watch her leave, then turn back to Susan. “So. Teach me this spell.”

* * * * *

Several hours later, you wake up in a world of screams and flames.

“Grab your stuff! We’re leaving!” your mum yells, stuffing clothing back into her duffle bag.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s no time! I’ll explain when we get home! Come on, out of the tents!” You exit the tent only seconds before your mum’s spell collapses it and puts it back in its bag. “Grab my hand!”

“What about the Statute of Secrecy? Shouldn’t we get to an Apparation point?” You’ve never broken the law before, and even though this is an extreme situation, this is all you can think about. What if they take you away and snap your wand? What could be going on that’s worse than that?

“Sweetie, there’s NO TIME! It’s an emergency. Now grab my hand!”

You grab on her hand and twist with her, landing on the doorstep to your house. You mutter the word that opens the door and twist the knob, stumbling into the house. Your mum’s fear is strangely infectious, and you find yourself looking over your shoulder.

“What happened?” you ask as your mum collapses onto the couch.

“Death Eaters. Followers of You-Know-Who. Attacking Muggles,” she says, struggling for breath. “I had to get us out of there. It was getting closer to our campsite.” She coughs. “The Statute of Secrecy allows use of magic for self protection, and there’ll be Obliviators there anyways, with what’s going on right now.”

“Ernie’s still there!” you realize. “And Susan and Justin and Zach! We can’t just leave them there! Mum, we have to go back right now and make sure they’re okay!”

She pulls you down to the couch and puts her arms around you. “Shh. It’ll be all right. They probably Apparated out with their parents, and if they didn’t, I don’t think we’d be much help to them. They’re all Witches and Wizards. The Death Eaters won’t hurt them.”

“But Justin’s a Muggleborn! Death Eaters hate them! And Zach’s halfblood, and if the others are seen protecting them, they’ll be seen Blood Traitors!”

Your mum shakes her head soothingly. “Ministry officials are there helping. Your friends will be okay.”

“Why didn’t we stay to help?” you yell, standing up. The shock has finally hit you, and you are vaguely aware that you’re shaking.

“Hannah, I know that you’re upset, but-“

“I hate you!” You burst into tears and run to your room. You know deep down that there’s nothing your mum could have done, that you’re safer here, but all you want to do is find your friends and make sure they’re okay. If anything happens to your friends, you know you wont be able to deal with it.

* * * * *

“I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-“

The door to the Great Hall opens with a crack like a gunshot, and in walks possibly the scariest man you’ve ever seen. His face is badly scarred, one of his legs is wooden, and there’s something room with his legs. You instinctively move a little bit closer to Zach.

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody.” What? This man is going to be your teacher? The thought is almost too horrible to comprehend. You already do so poorly in Defense that you’ve had to ask Padma to tutor you. You can’t imagine how badly you’ll do with a teacher you’re scared of. Oh, you know that it’s probably good practice to be a little scared when performing Defensive Magic, but this guy is absolutely terrifying.

“As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place a Hogwarts this year.”

“You’re JOKING!” one of the Weasley twins yells. You laugh, but you only have a very vague idea what a Triwizard Tournament is. Professor Dumbledore chuckles, then gives a very detailed explanation.

“Be cool to win, wouldn’t it?” Zach says as you get up from the table. “I mean, I know we’re too young, and even if we weren’t, I probably wouldn’t be good enough to win, but wouldn’t it be cool? I’m so excited about watching.”

“I’m more excited about meeting the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. I’ve only met a couple of Witches and Wizards from other countries. There’s so many interesting cultural differences,” Ernie says.

“What about you, Hannah?” Zach asks.

“”I don’t know,” you say slowly. “I’d loved for there to be a Hufflepuff champion. And it will be really neat to meet people from other schools.” You say the password and enter the Hufflepuff common room. “I think that what I’m really excited about is that it’s going to be something completely different. I’m getting the feeling that whatever happens, it’s going to be an adventure.”

“Your Spidy sense is tingling,” Justin says. You look at him blankly. “Oh, never mind.”

* * * * *

Padma is a surprisingly bad tutor. Oh, she’s really nice and everything, and she understands what she is trying to teach you, but she has no patience, and she can’t understand why you don’t get it. She becomes so frustrated by you inability to perform a simple Freezing Charm (you have no idea what Freezing Charms have to do with Defensive Magic, anyways) that she tells you to leave, saying she’s not sure if she can teach you anything.

You head back towards the common Room, biting your lip and telling yourself that you’re not going to cry. Realizing that this is not going to work, you slip into the nearest bathroom where you can cry properly. You step inside just in time to hear a shriek, and see Eloise Midgen’s nose separate from her face. You scream. You know you should do something, but what do you do there’s so much blood you don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood before and then the First Aid that your mum taught you kicks in and “It’s okay. I’m going to help you.” You focus, harder that you ever have before, and maybe it’s because the stakes are so high, but you manage the Freezing charm on the nose and use your scarf to bandage the face and you carry the nose in one hand and put your other arm around Eloise so she can lean on you and the first teacher you can find is Professor Sinistra and she levitates Eloise to the Hospital Wing.

You follow her, carrying the nose and beginning to calm down, and you’re proud because you know you did the right thing and kept your head. When Eloise’s nose gets reattached, she tells you what she did, and you realize that you should have tried to make friends with her before. Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened, but now it’s too late and all you can do is go forward from here and hope that everything will be okay.

* * * * *

“How do you play?” you ask.

“You tap it with your wand, and it says a really obscure spell. Everyone writes down what they think the spell does and put it on that square. Another card, with what the spell actually does, comes out, and everyone has to vote on which one is right. You get a point every time someone votes for yours, and two points if you vote for the right one,” Zach explains.

“Hey, that’s just like Balderdash!” Justin says.

“What’s Balderdash?” Susan asks.

“It’s a muggle game. So, who’s with me?” Zach asks. Everyone agrees to play, so Zach taps the glowing ball. “Fintoscimmia,” he reads.

You furrow your brow, then jot down an answer. When everyone is finished, Zach flips over the cards. The handwriting on each has become identical. Zach reads each aloud. “A spell used to heal ingrown toenails. A charm for protection from enemies while in the shower. A spell used to conjure a decoy monkey. A charm to remove odor from carpets.” That one was yours. “A jinx that renders its victim incapable of walking in a straight line. Or a spell to produce lucid dreaming. Are you ready to cast your vote?”

You know that the first one can’t be right because ingrown toenails are healed with an herb, not a spell, but you have no idea about the rest. In the end, you vote for the jinx, which turns out to be Justin’s. Nobody votes for the spell to produce a decoy monkey, which ends up being right.

After several rounds, Justin is declared the winner.

“So,” Zach says, putting the orb back into his bag. “What do you guys think of the kids from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang?”

“They seemed nice enough. I wish that some of them had sat with us, though,” Susan says.

“I was wondering about that, actually,” Ernie says. “Do you think that it was just a coincidence, or do you think where they sat reflected on their school? I mean, do you think Beauxbatons values cleverness, and Durmstrang ambition?”

You think about this for a little while, then say, “Why is it that nobody ever values friendship?”

Ernie looks at you hard. “We do. And if Cedric’s the school champion, everyone will see that that’s what really matters.”

“We’ll know tomorrow, one way or another.”

“Tomorrow,” Zach echoes.

* * * * *

Tomorrow takes forever to arrive, and when it does, it still seems like the feast will never get here. But it does, and you are so excited that you hardly even care that the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students have resumed their places at tables that aren’t yours.

“Well,” Professor Dumbledore says as the feast draws to a close. “The Goblet is almost ready to make its decision. I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

You watch the Goblet, and, when nothing happens, look around at the rest of your housemates. Ernie is staring intently, as if the Goblet will work if he just wills it hard enough. Justin is also looking around. Susan is drumming her fingers against the tables impatiently. Sally-Anne is sitting with Cedric and whispering to him reassuringly. Zach is glaring as he always does in tense situations. Eloise is staring at her plate, but looks up when you look over at her. You smile.

You look back towards Dumbledore when you hear everyone in the room gasp in unison.

“The Champion for Durmstrang will be Victor Krum.” You clap politely, but you don’t really care who the Beauxbatons or Durmstrang champions are. You don’t know any of the students well enough to have a preference. There’s a silence; then a scrap of parchment flies into Professor Dumbledore’s hand. “The Champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!” An exceptionally pretty girl gets up and goes through the chamber Victor Krum just entered. Other girls across the room burst into tears.

“The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!” You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath until you let it out in a shriek, jumping up and hugging Susan as you cheer. A Hufflepuff Champion! Maybe this will be the thing to help people see your house as something more that the dregs, the leftover students who don’t stand out enough to fit in another House.

As the applause dies down, Professor Dumbledore begins a speech about supporting the Champions, but is interrupted by the Goblet shooting out another piece of parchment. Professor Dumbledore stares at it for a moment, then looks up and says, “Harry Potter.”

You wonder, for a crazy moment, if you are having some mad sort of dream. This isn’t happening. It wouldn’t make sense. For a start, three names have already been called, and even if there wasn’t a Hogwarts Champion, Dumbledore wouldn’t let him break the rules on something this big, would he?

There is a moment of stunned silence; then the entire Great Hall is filled with the sound of whispers.

“That git!” Zach says, barely bothering to keep his voice down. “Is there anything he doesn’t get to do?” You wish that you could disagree with him, but you’re outraged too. It’s unfair, is what it is. Nobody under the age of seventeen gets to enter until Harry frickin’ Potter waltzes over the Age Line. Breaking the rules, just like always, and Professor Dumbldore makes a pet of him, letting him get away with murder.

The Gryffindor table looks a little too pleased with this development. They’re always going on about how much better than Slytherin they are, but at this moment, you think they’re a whole lot worse, because Slytherins don’t pretend to be anything other than what they are, whereas a Gryffindor will fight to the death insisting that they follow rules, that they play fair.

An whatever anyone might say, this is not fair.

* * * * *

You are still angry when you bring food from the kitchens into the Hufflepuff common room, and waiting for Cedric to show up only makes you more agitated. All anyone can talk about is how Harry could have gotten his name into the Goblet, and the party, the first Hufflepuff has been able to have in years, sucks.

* * * * *

Ernie fixes the badges so they only say Support Cedric Diggory, so you decide it’d be fair to wear to the first task. There’s nothing wrong with showing a little house pride. Ludo Bagman, in a magically magnified voice, explains that each Champion must get past a dragon to complete the Task. To you, this sounds like one of Dumbledore’s stupider ideas. What happens if one of the Champions gets killed? Even with people on hand to help, accidents happen. Cedric goes first, much to your relief, and once he gets past the dragon you are able to relax a bit and start enjoying yourself.

Fleur is next. She does fairly well until her skirt catches fire. The girl next to you screams. “It’s going to be alright,” you tell her. She nods, wiping away a tear as Fleur puts herself out with her wand.

When Fleur gets the egg and the judges begin to confer, the girl smiles at you. “I am Danielle. I am a student of Beauxbatons.” You are impressed by how little of an accent she has.

“I’m Hannah.”

Victor Krum is announced, and steps onto the field. You realize that, as dangerous as this is for the others, it will be even worse when it gets to Harry. He’s so much younger than the others. You decide that if Harry survives, you’ll try not to resent him for breaking so many rules anymore.

* * * * *

“I’m glad you’re having such a good time at Hogwarts,” you tell Danielle. “It’s nice to have your school visit. It makes a nice change.”

“It does indeed. And I am quite excited about the Yule Ball. We do not often have dances at Beauxbatons.”

You are about to reply that you don’t have them much at Hogwarts, either, when Zach comes up to you and asks for a word. You allow him to lead you to a back corner of the Great Hall. “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asks, so quietly that you have to strain your ears to hear him.

“Okay.”

“Great,” he says, looking considerably relieved. “Well- bye.” There’s an awkward moment when you can’t figure out what you’re supposed to do. You settle for a weird sort of half hug, then walk quickly back to where Daniele is waiting so that Zach can’t see how red your face is.

* * * * *

“So, I hear you’re going to the Yule Ball with Zach,” Justin says.

“Yeah, I am.”

“I didn’t know you liked him.”

“I don’t dislike him.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of leading him on, to go out with him if you don’t like him.”

“We’re friends. And maybe I like him. Don’t I get to go out with him and decide for myself?”

“I guess. But Hannah?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to break his heart.”

* * * * *

You meet Zach in the common room. You smile awkwardly and allow him to escort you to the Great Hall. Ernie, you are pleased to see, asked Eloise, who looks happier than you’ve ever seen her. They’re chatting animatedly about Gobstones, a game you’ve never quite understood the point of. Susan is meeting Anthony Goldstein in the Entrance Hall. Justin, to everyone’s complete surprise, asked Terry Boot, who, even more surprisingly, said yes.

Dancing is awkward at first. Zach is fairly nice about it, but he has two left feet, and absolutely hates the Weird Sisters. His musical tastes consist mostly of indie-alternative music such as The Squibs and Accio Dungbomb.

When you go back to the common room at the end of the night, Zach hesitates for a moment, then gives you a quick peck on the lips. “Good night.”

* * * * *

Padma’s tutoring is getting progressively better. After your successful Freezing of Eloise’s nose, she realized that you aren’t entirely incompetent, and that when the chips are down, you actually can do spells. Her current teaching method involves telling you how to perform a spell, then attacking you until you are goaded into using it. This works well enough, and you are no longer the dunce of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

* * * * *

One look inside of Madame Puddifoots and you’ve made up your mind.

“No way am I going in there.”

Zach grins awkwardly and puts his hands in the pockets of his robes. He looks down. “Then, um, what do you want to do?”

You think for a moment, then say, “I guess we could go to the Hog’s Head. I’ve never been up there, have you?”

“No, I haven’t. That sounds good.” Zach looks considerably relieved. You walk in silence for several excruciating minutes, until you bring up Cedric. You manage to talk for a while about how well he did against the dragon before lapsing back into silence. Luckily, only a few minutes after that you reach the Hog’s Head.

“So, what’s new?” Zach asks after you get the drinks and sit down at a table.

“Not much. Sill working on Defense with Padma. And I’m trying to find someone to teach me to play guitar.”

“As are half the girls in school. The Weird Sisters certainly left an impression.”

“Actually, I was thinking of acoustic guitar. It’s the kind of thing you could just play in a corner of the common room or sitting around a campfire, you know?”

Zach nods. “Cedric plays guitar. Do you want me to ask him to teach you?”

“That’d be great. I need to get a guitar first, though. And it’d be nice to have the Muggle kind. The magic’ enhanced ones sound too harsh.”

“You can get ones with Constant Tuning Charms and none of the other enhancements.”

You lift your butterbeer to your mouth and take a thoughtful sip. “Well, I haven’t decided yet. I’m going to have to think about it.”

* * * * *

The second Task, especially when compared with the first, sucks. You can’t see anything, since the entire Task takes place under water. To top it off, you’re sitting next to Zach, and the awkwardness is only enhanced by the fact that Justin and Terry are snogging in the seats in front of you. You don’t even really know where you stand with Zach. Besides the Yule Ball and Hogsmeade, all you’ve really down together is play Wizard’s chess. Not exactly the stuff that daydreams are made of. And it’s really no fun to stare into water wondering what’s happening inside.

Ignoring the dirty looks of the people around you, who are all intent on staring deeply into the water, you take out your copy of Squibs on the Moon and begin to read.

* * * * *

You look into your glass of butterbeer, wishing that you were of age so you could use a Cleaning Charm to remove the grime from inside it.

“So, Cedric and Harry are tied for first place. Think it’ll be a Hogwarts victory?” Zach asks.

“Well, knowing his track record, I’d give the edge to Harry.”

“Yeah. Still, it’s not really fair. You’d think a bloke could step aside and give someone else a turn, you know?”

“Zach, you know that he didn’t put his name in the goblet.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, staring into his drink. “It was easier when I didn’t, though.”

You finish your drinks in silence and pay. Zach laces his fingers through yours as you leave and says, “So. Do you want to go out to the Shreiking Shack? We haven’t gone in ages.”

“Uh, sure.” You walk quietly, all too aware of your hand, which is sweating so much that you’re surprised Zach is still holding on. When you reach the grounds outside the Shack, Zach lets go of your hand and faces you. Taking a deep breath, he puts his hands on your shoulders and leans in to kiss you.

It’s wet and sloppy and your teeth clunk against his and he pulls away a little and that’s better but no wait it’s not what you want and “Zach, I don’t want to do this,” and oh God he looks so hurt you never wanted to hurt him and you reach out to put your hand on his shoulder but her jerks away and walks back towards Hogwarts.

You fall to your knees and collapse into a ball of tears.

* * * * *

The Task was taking far too long. After the Champions had entered the maze, you couldn’t see a thing that was going on. This Tournament was supposed to be fun for everyone, but only the first Task had been any fun at all to watch. You look down at your watch. It’s been two hours and twenty- six minutes.

Zach is still refusing to look at you.

This has created a rift in your friendship with Ernie. He and Zach have been getting closer all year, and at this point, they’re best friends. What with Justin spending very little time with his housemates these days, you’ve spent the past few weeks with just Eloise and Susan for company.

Two hours and twenty-eight minutes.

You are starting to nod off when a gasp goes through the crowd. You can’t seen what’s going on, even when you stand up, but you can tell something’s gone terribly wrong.

Two hours and thirty- four minutes and you are seriously concerned.

Professor Moody grabs Harry and starts pushing through the people. In the gap they leave you can see something that might be a body.

The whispers start.

Two hours and thirty-seven minutes and you know without a doubt that Cedric is dead.

 

* * * * *

Everyone handles Cedric’s death differently.

Sally-Anne has to take a Calming Drought every morning with breakfast just to get through the day.

Ernie is somber, more in control than you’ve ever seen him, and he often is curt and bossy.

Susan steps up and starts demanding answers. Why were children allowed to take part in such a dangerous competition? What could she do to change things?

Eloise cries periodically, but when she isn’t crying she claims to be fine.

Justin spends even less time in the common room and more with Terry, until he is accused of being too clingy and retreats to spending time in his dormitory refusing to speak to anyone.

Zach closes himself off entirely. He insists on being called Zacharius, and is increasingly surly. Quidditch makes him even worse, but he refuses to quit flying.

You are beginning to lose faith in Dumbledore’s sanity. Too many students have come close to death too many times. You try to follow Susan, try to rally to the cry of “How can I help?” but you can’t even really tell if you mean it.

End of Book Four.


	5. Book Five

Every time you leave the house, you tell your mum you love her.

You’re partially just trying to make up for saying you hated her last summer. But it’s also partly because you’re scared. Every time you leave, you wonder if it’ll be the last time you see her. So when you hear her shriek coming from the kitchen, you assume the worst, racing towards her with your wand raised, no idea what spell you’re even planning to use.

At first you think you’ve been hit with a curse. It’s only after your mum shrieks, “Oh, sweetie! You’re a Prefect!” that you realize she’s thrown her arms around you.

“I’m-what?”

“A Prefect! Oh, we’ve got to celebrate! Let’s go to that restaurant in Diagon Alley that you like!”

You’re stunned. She hasn’t taken you out for dinner in years. You can’t understand how you got to be a prefect, either. Surely Susan would have been better for the job. You aren’t very good at telling people what to do.

* * * * *

You are at least vaguely acquainted with all of the other Prefects in your year. You and Ernie are representing Hufflepuff. Padma and Anthony were chosen from Ravenclaw. You’re immensely relived that you are caught up enough that you don’t need Padma’s tutoring, but you hope you’ll still spend time with her. Ron and Hermione, who you privately think of as Harry’s groupies, are the Gryffindor Prefects; Draco and Pansy for Slytherin.

You smile across the compartment at Pansy, and are surprised when she scowls back.

“What’s up with Pansy?” you ask Padma.

“From what I hear, Daphne Greengrass’s little sister has her eye on Draco. And, well, you know how Pansy handle’s competition.”

You nod, watching Pansy out of the corner of your eye.

The new Head Boy is Lucas Kinson, from Ravenclaw. You can’t help but think that, if Cedric were alive, it would have been him.

You wish you’d had the chance to get to know Cedric.

* * * * *

Any concerns you may have had in regards to going through Defense Against the Darks Arts untutored fly out the window as Professor Umbridge explains the course aims. It doesn’t sound as though you’ll be performing any defensive magic in this class, and you’re competent enough at the theory.

Others are not as complacent about this development. Ernie keeps quiet out of respect for his Prefect badge, but after class you are treated to a twenty minute diatribe about the utter stupidity of Professor Umbridge.

You go into the bathroom to escape him, but what you find there is worse. Sally-Anne is sitting on the bathroom floor sobbing. You never saw her cry until after Cedric died.

Hufflepuff house is falling apart. And you have no idea what to do or how to fix it. So you sit down next to Sally-Anne and cry with her.

* * * * *

You are playing guitar in the dormitory, going over the three chords Cedric had the chance to teach you, when Eloise comes over quietly and says, “I could show you the rest. If you want. Of course, you could play most popular songs with just those ones.”

You nod, and hand her the guitar, but instead of showing you the chords, she starts to gently strum, playing a slow tune.

“What song is that?”

“It’s by The Who. They’re a pretty popular Muggle band. You’ve probably never heard of them.”

“Oh.” A thought strikes you. “You know, Padma told me that she’s thinking of starting a band. You should talk to her. I think she needs a guitar player.

“Well, maybe. Now, let’s get to those chords.

* * * * *

“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to Zacharius.

“Hey, he says quietly, leaning back against his chair and sipping a bottle of butterbeer that you assume he stole from the kitchens. The house elves like to drink it.

“How have you been?” This doesn’t remotely convey all of the things you wish you could say. “How are you holding up now that the guy you hero-worshipped is dead and you’re being fed two different stories about what happened, but you have no idea that to believe, or if anybody’s even telling the truth?” might be better, or “I know I broke up with you and you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I really want to make things better even though I have no idea how.” “How have you been?” doesn’t begin to sum up all that you want to say, but under the circumstances, it’s the best you can do.

“Okay, I guess. People have been nice. The new Quidditch captain can’t play for shit, though. I wish I’d been picked to be captain. Screw seniority, you know?”

You do know. You know that if Cedric were still here, Zacharius wouldn’t be complaining that he hadn’t been chosen to be captain. You can’t think of any response, so you just say, “Yeah.”

“Hannah?” Zacharius says, looking up from his butterbeer for the first time. “Was there anything in particular that you wanted to say?”

“No.”

“Then could you leave? I’m sorry, but I just want to be alone right now.”

You get up to leave the common room, feeling stupid and small. All you wanted to do was help, but you seem to have a talent for royally screwing everything up.

Maybe you don’t deserve to be a Hufflepuff after all.

* * * * *

Professor Sprout insists that all fifth and seventh years meet with her once a month to discuss their progress and prepare for exams. The first time you meet, you’re absolutely terrified. At the second meeting you’re mildly anxious. By the third meeting, you’re fine.

It’s the third meeting when you find out that you have an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

This does not surprise you the way it might have a year ago. You read the assigned book and keep your mouth shut, making you Professor Umbridge’s favorite kind of student. This does not surprise you, but it does make you realize something.

If you have a bad teacher, the grade you get doesn’t really matter. Getting an O from Umbridge doesn’t mean you’ll automatically pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.

When you look back later, you’re pretty sure that this was the largest contributing factor to your next decision.

When Hermione reveals her idea to you and Ernie at breakfast, Ernie immediately says yes. You tell her you’ll need to think about it. Ernie really wants you to go, and the fact that you’re becoming friends with him again is the next factor.

Then Susan tells you she’s going.

Eloise says she isn’t. She doesn’t feel comfortable in big groups.

Sally-Anne says she’s not sure.

The deciding factor is when you hear that Zacharius is going.

You’re not sure what this says about you.

* * * * *

You walk into the Hog’s Head with Susan and Justin, who promptly leaves to attach himself to Terry. You see Zacharius (when will you be able to stop thinking of him as Zach?) and Ernie sitting just a few tables away from you. You don’t know why it matters so much to you, but it feels imperative that things with Zacharius go back to the way they were. Maybe it’s because of Ernie. He was your best friends for years, and now you don’t know what he is. Maybe it’s just because no matter what’s going on in your life, part of you is sure that whatever came before was better.

But in this case, you know that what came before was better. If you believe Harry, You-Know-Who’s back. If you believe the Ministry, it means you can’t trust Professor Dumbledore anymore. And you still can’t quite seem to get those chords Eloise was trying to show you.

“Er, well, er- hi,” Hermione says awkwardly, trying to get everyone’s attention. “Well, erm, well, you know why you’re here.” She goes on for a couple of minutes, and you have to struggle to pay attention, until she say’s You-Know-Who’s real name. Suddenly, everyone in the room is alert.

“Well, that’s the plan anyway. If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to—“

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” Zacharius demands. You blink, surprised. You’ve never seen him this aggressive before. It makes you vaguely uncomfortable to hear him being so intolerably rude.

“Well, Dumbledore believe it—“

“You mean, Dumbledore believes him.” He indicates to Harry.

Oh. So that’s what this is all about. You’ve always know that Zacharius has a problem with Harry, and quite frankly, you do to, but there’s really no reason to be so mean about it. You exchange a worried look with Susan across the table.

Harry handles the situation with composure, but you can tell that he’s struggling to contain his anger. You think, for the first time, of how painful it would have been to be in the graveyard with Cedric, to watch him die and unable to stop it…

“So,” Hermione says, in a transparent attempt to diffuse the tension. “So… like I was saying…”

She is babbling, and you can tell from Zacharius’s face that he’s prepared to argue some more. You look at Susan and mouth,“Do something!”

“Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?” she blurts out.

“Yeah,” Harry says, looking surprised.

“A corporeal Patronus?” she presses.

“”Er- you don’t know Madame Bones, do you?”

Susan smiles, her face etched with the relief of having succeeded in distracting everyone. “She’s my Auntie. I’m Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So- is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?”

Harry says yes, sounding exasperated at being asked so many times. He doesn’t realize that Susan just saved him. Before you know it, everybody’s up and running, telling stories of all the heroic that’s that Harry’s done. As everyone talks, you can see Zacharius getting more and more frustrated. Ernie appears to be trying to calm him down, but it isn’t working.

“…I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I’m trying to make is—“

“Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?” Zacharius asks.

The Weasleys immediately start yelling. Part of you wants to tell them to lay off him, that he’s upset about Cedric and they need to just leave him alone. The other part of you wants to take Zacharius aside and ask what the hell’s going on with him. Your inner dispute ends in a stalemate, and you end up saying nothing at all.

It’s going to be a very long meeting.

* * * * *

You find Justin sobbing in your favorite armchair by the fire. You’re already running late to Transfiguration, but you’re a Hufflepuff, and your friend needs you. What do your teachers expect you to do?

* * * * *

“He didn’t shed a single tear over Cedric, and now Boot’s dumped him and it’s supposed to be the end of the world?”

“Shut up, Zach. You know Terry was the only thing really holding him together.”

He glares as at you. “It’s Zacharius. And he’s been crying over there forever. Can’t he at least go up to the dormitory and leave the rest of us in peace.”

“I wonder if he’s still planning to go to Harry’s club. He’s gotta know Terry will be there.”

“That’s another thing, Potter’s club. Are you sure you want to risk getting expelled so that he can have his little fan club?”

“I trust Harry,” Ernie says steadily, not looking up from his Arithmancy homework. “And I’d think you, of all people, would want to be prepared, especially after what happened to Cedric.”

“I guess,” Zacharius says, looking out the window.

* * * * *

Seventy-three more minutes and you can go home.

It wouldn’t be so bad if there were anyone for you to talk to. But in the forty-seven minutes since you got here, the only person who’s spoken to you is Pansy, and that was just to greet you before going back to her conversation with Millicent. The Greengrass sisters, you note, are nowhere to be seen.

If your mum had just listened to you- but no, she took one look at the invitation and insisted you go. You tried to explain that you and Pansy aren’t friends anymore, not really, but you may as well have been under a Silencing Charm for all the attention she paid.

So now you’re in Pansy’s drawing room, sitting on a chair in the corner and watching the adults talk. The other teenagers disappeared twenty-six minutes ago, leaving you alone to wonder why Pansy invited you to her family Christmas party in the first place.

After you’ve been there for fifty-two minutes (only sixty-eight to go) a tall, gawky girls comes up to you.

“Can I sit?”

“Sure.”

“You’re in Hufflepuff, right?”

You nod. “Listen, I really hate to ask, but could you remind me your name? I’m having trouble placing you.”

“I’m Lisa Turpin. Ravenclaw. Don’t feel bad, people always have trouble placing me.”

“Are you friends with Pansy?”

“Our families are friends. Well, our mums, anyway. My dad’s a muggleborn, so- well, you know how people can be. You?”

“Family friends.” You don’t feel like explaining your complicated friendship with Pansy, so you ask, “Any idea where they all went?”

“They’re in Pansy’s bedroom smoking gillyweed. I caught a whiff of it on my way to the bathroom.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know Pansy smoked, but you fell so naïve saying it. You drum your fingers on the dark mahogany of your chair, unsure of what to say, then look down at your watch.

Sixty-three more minutes and you can go home.

* * * * *

“What do you think, Hannah?” Zacharius asks. You finish your bite of eggs slowly, wishing he hadn’t dragged you into this.

“I don’t know. Harry doesn’t seem like a liar. But it does seem--”

“Far-fetched? Absurd?”

“Like the only possible explanation for Cedric’s death?” Ernie interjects.

“I told you to stop bringing him up! You always use him to win fights!” Zacharius yells.

“Woah, calm down. I don’t think he meant it that way,” Justin says. “Come on, Zach, you have to admit it makes sense. Anyways, why are you in the D.A., if you don’t believe Harry?”

“Because he doesn’t want to end up like Cedric,” you say quietly.

“So you agree with him?” Ernie asks.

“I guess I don’t really know what I think.”

* * * * *

It doesn’t affect you. Well, it does a little bit, the way it affects everyone. But it doesn’t affect you the way it does Susan, who currently has a very Potter-esque type of fame, or poor Neville, whose secret is finally out.

It doesn’t affect you in the sense that you don’t throw up when you hear the news, the way that Zacharius does. You don’t constantly send letters home making sure your parents are all right, the way that Justin does. You don’t fall asleep during class the way that Sally-Anne does, because you don’t stay up all night to keep the nightmares at bay the way she does.

You don’t even make the connection between the mass Azkaban breakout and your increased anxiety until it lands you in the hospital wing.

After she gives you a Calming Draught, Madame Pomfrey sits you down and asks if something’s wrong. “I’ve had a lot of kids here recently because of panic attacks, and a surprising number of them are suffering from things other than exam anxiety,” she explains.

Maybe it’s a side affect of the potion that makes you loosed tongued enough to tell her everything. You start with your dad, explaining about his leaving, and how even though it’s been year’s your mum refuses to talk about him. You tell her about your friendship with Pansy and your short lived relationship with Zach, and how neither of them really talk to you anymore. You tell her about your struggle to keep up in your classes, how you used to be tutored by Padma. You talk about Cedric’s death, even though she probably knows more about it than you do, and realize that you’ve never talked about it before. You explain that you’re not as strong as Susan, or as in control of your emotions as Ernie. That Pansy’s more fun that you are, and Zach’s more stubborn, Eloise is braver, and Justin is a much better friend. You tell her that you’re probably selfish for even complaining about this, since everyone’s problems are way worse than yours.

Madam Pomfrey listens patiently, and you suddenly realize how long you’ve been talking.

“Sorry for taking up so much of your time. You probably have other patients that need treating,” you mumble, getting up off the chair you were sitting on.

“Hannah, sit back down. And don’t apologize. Don’t ever apologize for needing help. It sounds to me like you’ve been taking care of other people so much that you’ve forgotten to take care of yourself.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry so much about other people.” Easier said then done, but you don’t tell her that. “You can’t help other people if you’re not taking care of you.”

You fidget in your chair, feeling more uncomfortable the longer she talks. “Can I go now? I’m going to be late to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you know how Professor Umbridge can be.”

“Oh, yes, feel free to leave.”

You are almost to the door this time when she says, “Oh, Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“If the anxiety gets to bad, come back and I’ll prescribe a potion that will make things easier.”

* * * * *

“By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled,” Ernie reads aloud from the Hufflepuff notice board. “As a Prefect, I’m obligated to tell if I see you with the Quibbler, so you don’t tell me if you have it and I promise not to look that closely.”

You know that within hours, everyone in this room will have read the article in question, including Ernie. Hufflpuffs may follow rules, but in this case the rules are absolute rubbish.

* * * * *

“Umbridge?” Harry asks the elf. You and Justin exchange terrified looks.

Harry says something else you can’t hear, then bellows, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? RUN!”

You push past people for the exit. Once you get through the door, you sprint to the nearest bathroom and oh god are your friends okay you really shouldn’t have left them but you’re not a Gryffindor you never pretended you were brave and you’re much more likely to be caught as a group and you’re catching your breath and in a minute you’ll go back to the common room, and everything will be-

“Homenum Revelio!”

You pull your legs onto the toilet seat and hug your knees, glad you thought to hide in a stall and hoping that whatever that spell was supposed to do, it didn’t work. There are footsteps, and then a whispered, “Alohamora,” and the door flies open and you find yourself face to face with Pansy.

“Hannah?” she whispers, turning pale.

“Um. Yes?”

“I saw your name on the list- but I didn’t really believe- you’re actually part of it? That- gang trying to rise up against the Ministry?”

“We’re not going up against the Ministry. We’re going up against You-Know-Who.” You know as soon as the words are out of your mouth that you shouldn’t have said them, shouldn’t have affiliated yourself with the D.A. or said what the group was for, but you want Pansy to understand.

“It’s the same- you just don’t get- it’s illegal, Hannah! Does that mean anything to you? You going to get into so much trouble- and you’re a Prefect- half the Prefects are on that stupid list- what do you think that even says about Hogwarts?”

“That we think for ourselves?” you suggest tentatively.

“But- that’s- come on, Hannah, don’t be so naïve. You know the Ministry won’t see it that way. ”

“What are you doing out here, anyways? It’s almost curfew,” you say, hoping she’ll leave.

Pansy hesitates. “You’re not the only one in a group. I’ve been invited to join the Inquisitorial Squad.”

You can’t help but laugh at the stupid name.

She raises her wand, hand shaking. “Don’t laugh at me! I’ve been sent to round up members of your little club, so you’d better watch out! Professor Umbridge said we’d get a reward! And it’s important to show allegiance to the Ministry right now, father said so! And-and—“ She bursts into tears.

You stand up and move to put your arms around her, but she shakes her head.

“No. Just go.”

You turn around as you reach the door. You know you should leave, but you need to know. “Are you going to tell anyone you found me?”

She looks up, surprised. Wipes snot from her face. Finally, she shakes her head and whispers, “No.”

* * * * *

At breakfast the next day, Headmistress Umbridge makes a hoity-toity little speech about community, and how she’ll serve the greater good as Headmistress. By the end of the speech, you are shaking with anger at her hypocrisy.

At lunch, the fireworks start. Everyone knows it must have been Fred and George, but no one says a word.

At dinner, Headmistress Umbridge gives another rousing speech about how this isn’t funny, dammit, and will anyone with information please come forward.

* * * * *

“Good evening, Miss Abbott.”

“Good evening, Professor.”

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

You sit down, noticing that Professor Umbridge is absent from this meeting. This confuses you, since you know she was at Ernie’s career consultation. Then again, you are not a confirmed member of the D.A., since Pansy didn’t turn you in, so Umbridge might not be interested in your meeting.

“We’ve had several meetings throughout the year. The only question now is whether you want to go on to NEWT level, and if so, what classes will be most useful for the career you’d like,” Professor Sprout says. She looks so out of place, sitting behind a desk in an office instead of in the greenhouse.

“I want to go on to NEWT level.”

“Well, then, we should have a look at the requirements. You have to take at least three classes, and with your anxiety problems, I wouldn’t recommend more than five.”

“Well- I’d really like to be a Healer. But I was looking at the requirements, and they want an NEWT in Transfiguration. I think I could pass Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I think Transfiguration is probably a deal breaker.

Professor Sprout looks at you thoughtfully. “I may have jus the thing for you. Do you remember Timothy Fawcett? Oh, know, you wouldn’t. He graduated at the end of your first year. Well, he’s been granted ten thousand galleons by the Ministry of Magic to go into research. He believes that by going through the original texts of children’s stories, he may be able to uncover ancient healing spells. There has been evidence that the Story of Three Brothers may have some basis in truth. Timothy is offering an internship, and asked if I’d be willing to find a Hufflepuff who would be good for the job. Does this sound like something you’d be interested in?”

“But wouldn’t that still require Transfiguration?”

“I think Mr. Fawcett would be perfectly happy with a student who was not taking Transfiguration, providing they were a student of Ancient Runes. And if this project is a success, you may very well be offered a job there for after you graduate. This would be an amazing opportunity for a student just out of Hogwarts.”

You spend the next half-hour hashing out the details. Professor Sprout explains that this will take the place of a normal Potions class. You agree to take Charms, Ancient Runes, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Herbology. There’s the issue of transportation back and forth during the school year, but that can be finalized later.

* * * * *

“Some days, I think the Weasley twins got it exactly right,” Zacharius grumbles. “Another lesson like that and I’ll be getting on my broomstick, too.”

“I jut can’t believe they actually did it. It’s absolutely mad. Another month and they’d have taken their N.E.W.T.s, and then they’d be done. Who will they ever got on in the world without having taken those tests?” Ernie asks.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything besides tests to stay here, and that in itself is kind of pathetic,” Justin says. “No D.A., no Terry, no Dumbledore. I reckon the twins were right.”

“It has to get better, doesn’t it?” you ask.

Ernie sighs impatiently. “It doesn’t have to do anything, Hannah.”

* * * * *

You still aren’t quite sure how you managed to Transfigure a ferret into a flock of flamingos, but you really aren’t that fussed about Transfiguration anymore, anyways. You’re much more concerned with passing Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Herbology goes well.

You think that you past Defense. D.A. (periods?) helped build your confidence.

Ancient Runes is hard, but you love that class, so you know your stuff pretty well.

Potions is a breeze.

You think you passed Muggle Studies, but it doesn’t really matter. Part of you wishes you could take it next year, but you’ll be busy enough as it is.

You know you won’t pass Astronomy. You stop paying attention when sparks start flying out by Hagrid’s hut. After Professor McGonagall is hit, you are reminded to pay attention, but your hands are shaking to hard to properly map anything.

You don’t stop shaking until after you fall asleep.

* * * * *

The day after the Daily Prophet releases the truth after a year of hiding it, you send your mum a long letter. You tell her about Pansy, the D.A., your anxiety and how you might have to take potions for it, about how even a year after Cedric’s death, your whole house is flailing. Madame Pomfrey suggested that you try talking about your feelings more, and you’re ready to take her advice.

Your mum sends back a response saying she loves you, she’s sorry, you’ve been so brave, and she’s hoping to join the fight against You-Know-Who.

End of Book Five


	6. Book Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Other life stuff kept getting in the way. The good news is that I plan to have chapter seven up by the beginning of September, at the very latest. Once again, thanks to my illustrious beta, Storm Brain.

_Dear Miss Abbott,_

 _I am pleased to inform you that your internship will begin on September 8th, one week after the beginning of term. You will be escorted to the Hogsmeade apothecary at 3 o’clock, where I will be purchasing necessary potion supplies. I will then take you by Side-Along Apparation to our research lab. Please keep in mind that our project budget is low, and do not expect too much of the research facilities._

 _Yours Sincerely,  
Timothey Fawcett_

* * * * *

 _ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

 _Pass Grades  
OUTSTANDING (O)   
EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS (E)   
ACCEPTABLE (A)   
Fail Grades  
POOR (P)  
DREADFUL (D)  
TROLL (T)_

 _Hannah Lynn Abbott has achieved:_

 _Ancient Runes E  
Astronomy A  
Charms E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts E  
Herbology O  
History of Magic A  
Muggle Studies O  
Potions O  
Transfiguration D_

* * * * *

Your mum is hiding something.

* * * * *

The Prefect’s compartment feels much more strained than it did last year. Last year, You-Know-Who was just a boogieman.

This year, he’s everyone’s impending doom.

Ernie is sitting more rigidly that you’ve ever seen him before. “How was your summer?” he asks.

“Dreadful. Mum would barely let me leave the house. You?”

“My older brother came to visit. He called me a blood traitor, and told me to stay out of things or I’d get hurt.”

“Oh, Ernie, I’m so sorry.”

“I punched him in the face and called him a prat.”

“Good for you,” Padma says, leaning over. “I wish I were that brave. There was a drunk bloke on the Knight Bus saying that Muggleborns would ruin our society, that we should get rid of the lot of them, and I was too scared to say a word. Parvati yelled at him, though.” Padma looked wistful. “I couldn’t even back her up. I was too scared to move.”

Pansy and Draco are sitting at the other end of the compartment, as far from everyone else as they can possibly get. They’re whispering, but when you strain your ears to listen, you manage to catch a few phrases. “… don’t know what you’re trying to prove- ” “Just trust me, Pansy.”

You decide that you don’t care what they’re saying.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _Just wanted to check in and make sure everything’s okay. I love you, honey._

 _Love,  
Mum_

* * * * *

 _Dear Mum,_

 _Everything’s fine._

 _Love,  
Hannah_

* * * * *

“I guess I should give you a little background information. I suppose you’ve heard the story of Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump?”

“Of course.”

Timothy scoops up some beetle’s eyes and puts them in his bag. “Well, many years ago, Healers realized that the Cackling Stump in Babbity Rabbitty is actually a common plant. Upon further investigation, they realized that the stump in question, which is called a Snargaluff, actually holds the key ingredient to the Wolfsbane potion, which, as I’m sure you know, has been a phenomenal breakthrough in the world of Healing.” He carefully inspects a Bicorn horn. “Am I talking too much? You can tell me if I’m boring you or not making sense. I’d rather know if I am.”

“Not at all. Please go on,” you say politely. You’re actually quite fascinated.

“Several years ago, I was reading the original runic text to Babbitty Rabbittty, and I realized that the Rune for cackling literally translates to ‘wolfish laugh.’ I know it’s not a lot to go on, but I think I’ve found other places in the stories of Beetle the Bard that indicate that there are other clues in his stories. My grant from the Ministry is fairly small, but I think that we can accomplish enough to qualify for another one if we really work at it and find some more concrete evidence.” He looks down at his bag. “I think that’s everything. We have half an hour left, so I’ll Apparate you to the lab so you can see what it’s like, and ask any questions that you might have. Then next time we meet, we can really get cracking.”

* * * * *

“Hey Hannah! Do you want to play Exploding Snap?” Zacharias asks.

“I can’t. I’m translating The Fountain of Fair Fortune. Hey, do you think the giant worm means something? Like, maybe that flobberworms should be used for something?”

“That doesn’t even make sense. Come on, Hannah, you’ve been going through that book all week. Take a break, why don’t you. There’s a good ten months before you need a big breakthrough. “

“Zach, it’s not just the grant. I’m really interested in this.”

“Could you at least pretend to care that I go by Zacharias now?”

“Oops. Sorry.” You pick up your parchment and write down all possible translations for ‘Anhaw.’ Can’t Zacharias see you’re busy? It’s hard enough to keep up with the strain of your class work. You should at least be able to do what you want in your free time, and if what you want to do is read kid’s stories, people should leave you to read in peace.

“Well, then maybe tomorrow we could hang out and work on our Charms homework. I know you’re having trouble with nonverbal spells.”

“I told Padma and Eloise that I’d listen to their band practice tomorrow. We could work on the homework Saturday.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you’re too busy. But Hannah?” He gets up and starts to gather his things. “We’re all just as busy and worried as you are. But you don’t see Ernie or Justin refusing to make time for their friends.” He walks across the room and up the stairs to his dormitory.

A wave of guilt washes over you, intensified by the fact that you and Zacharias only recently got back on speaking terms. But what with keeping up in NEWT level classes and your internship, you’ve been swamped.

You promise yourself that next week you’ll put aside some time for him.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _How is your internship going? How are classes? Your last letter didn’t tell me anything. Is your Defense club still going on? I want to know everything._

 _Love,  
Mum_

* * * * *

“You guys are getting pretty good,” you tell Eloise after watching her band practice for two hours.

“Lisa needs work. Of course, she’s only been drumming for a little while.”

“Aren’t you guys playing at the Hog’s Head in a couple of weeks?”

Eloise looks at her feet. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m leaving Hogwarts. And Padma’s parents are thinking of taking her out, too.”

This takes a minute to register. “You mean you’re leaving? As in going away and not coming back?”

“Unless the war miraculously ends by next week,” she says tearfully. “And Hannah, I don’t want to go! But my dad doesn’t think it’s safe anymore.”

You give her a big hug. It isn’t safe here anymore, but it’s not like anywhere else is better.

* * * * *

 _Dear Mum,_

 _My internship is great. Classes are hard, but I expected that, and I’m having fun._

 _There’s really nothing else to tell._

 _Love,  
Hannah_

* * * * *

 _Dear Miss Abbott,_

 _We regret to inform you that your mother, Grace Abbott, passed away at 11:23 yesterday evening. We believe that her death was the work of Death Eaters; that is, followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Please believe that we are putting every effort into catching her murderer. Your presence is requested at the Ministry of Magic tomorrow at two o’clock sharp to discuss the will of the late Mrs. Abbott._

 _Respectfully,  
Pius Thickness,  
Head of Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

“We’ve already found your father, and told him what happened. Tomorrow, Professor Sprout will take you to the Ministry. Your dad said he would meet you there,” Professor Dumbledore explains. “Then-“

“Stop. Just stop.”

He peers at you over his glasses. “I beg your pardon?”

“Just stop talking, all right? I can’t listen to you just sitting there calmly and telling me what’s going to happen. Give me a minute to process, dammit!” You burst into tears. This can’t be right. There must have been some mistake. Your mother’s not dead. She’s at home reading your letter. Right now. Oh god, that letter why did you have to be so mean to her all she wanted was an answer to her questions and you couldn’t even give her that. And now she’s gone and you want to run and find her, maybe run all the way home, just to prove to Professor Dumbledore that he’s _wrong _, your mother isn’t dead, she isn’t she isn’t she isn’t-__

Professor Dumbledore walks around his desk and puts a hand on your shoulder. “Miss Abbott, I understand that you’re upset. What can we do to make this easier for you?”

“Leave her alone, Albus. Can’t you see she needs time to grieve?” Professor Sprout puts her arms around you in what is supposed to be a comforting manner, but all you want to do is run away.

Your mum is dead.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _I am deeply sorry to hear about your mother’s death. I suppose you’re living with your dad now? Professor Sprout told us in no uncertain terms that it was too dangerous for us to leave school to attend the funeral, or you would have had half of Hufflepuff there. Everyone wants to help you. What can we do?_

 _Classes aren’t the same without you._

 _Yours Truly,  
Ernie McMillan_

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _Without you and Eloise to keep me awake, I’m actually going to sleep at a reasonable hour. Which sucks. I’d much rather have you here, snoring and all. Sally-Anne is nice and all, but she’s not much of a talker, especially after Cedric’s death. It’s funny that that was more than a year ago, isn’t it?_

 _Ernie is reading over my shoulder. He says it’s insensitive of me to mention death around you. But I don’t think you would want to me to avoid the subject. Everyone avoided talking about death to me after Aunt Amelia died during the summer, and I wished that they would stop beating around the bush. Please let me know if you’d rather I not talk about it, though. I promise I’ll understand._

 _I miss you in Herbology. Ernie’s smart, but half the time I have no idea what he’s talking about. That’s right, Ernie, I’m talking about you, now would you please stop reading over my shoulder?_

 _How are you holding up? I want to help you._

 _Love,  
Susan_

 _Dear Miss Abbott,_

 _I understand that you need to spend time at home. I know how hard this must be fore you. I told Mr. Fawcett that you wouldn’t be at your internship for a couple of weeks, but you should contact him about when you should go back. You can’t lose yourself in this, especially when we’re living in such dangerous times. Please go back to your internship._

 _I’m sending your schoolwork so that you don’t get too far behind. It would be wonderful if you would come back after the Christmas holidays. If you really want to study Healing after Hogwarts, you can’t get lose too much of your education._

 _I hope things get better._

 _Yours Sincerely,  
Pomona Sprout_

* * * * *

You can’t maintain much interest in what Timothy’s saying, but he’s so glad to have you back that it doesn’t matter.

It was three weeks before you could will yourself to get out of bed; four before you started going to your internship again. Professor Sprout continues to send you work, and you’ve barely made a dent in the stack. It’s hard to plough through, but it’s getting easier.

When Timothy takes you home by Side-Along Apparation, you wonder if he would have gotten more work done if you’d just stayed here.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _Susan wrote me about what happened. I’m really sorry, and I wish I could be there to help you, but my dad’s not letting me leave the house right now. Maybe you could ask your dad if you could come over here? It must be weird, having him back. Is it weird?_

 _I miss you._

 _Love,  
Eloise._

* * * * *

The hardest thing to get used to is having your father back. It had been years since you’d seen him, and then, suddenly, he’d been here. In your house. He cooks dinner every night. You don’t even remember him knowing how to cook. Now that you’re out of bed, he insists that the two of you sit together for dinner, every night, to talk about your days. He’s been transferred back to the British Ministry, and part of you wonders why he couldn’t have done it before. Why he hadn’t come back, even for a visit, until your mum was gone. But at least he’s trying.

Everyone’s trying. Your friends write regularly. You even got a letter from Pansy, one that sounded gracious as well as incredibly forced. Everyone’s trying, but no one knows what to do.

Each day, the homework stack gets smaller. You’ve begun to see it as a mission. Chip it away slowly, one assignment at a time, and you feel as if you might be able to climb out of this deep pit, and maybe whatever’s at the top will be better. Less empty. Maybe at the top you’ll be able to feel again. Maybe.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _I wanted to apologize for lashing out at you at the beginning of the term. This year just feels like a tipping point, like whatever happens now will change the course of history forever. And that scares me, and I’m worried that I’ll make the wrong move. It’s just hard, you know?_

 _So: I’m sorry for lashing out at you at the beginning of term._

 _I hope you have a nice Christmas. Do you think you’ll be back after the holidays?_

 _Sincerely,  
Zacharias_

* * * * *

Christmas is different this year. Your dad tries his best to make it nice, but he just doesn’t know your routine. He doesn’t know that you always make Christmas cookies on December 16th, or that the tree stays up until January 6th. In some ways, it’s easier that he doesn’t know. If things were exactly the same, you would see the gaping hole, showing you what’s not there. And you don’t want to think about what’s not there.

You get invited to the Parkinson’s Christmas party again this year, but your dad says you don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Your mum would have made you go, and you would have complained and moaned, then gone and hated it. But now you would go to all of the stupid Christmas parties in the world just to have her back.

Christmas is different this year. Your dad tries, but you don’t really know each other yet.

You wonder if Lisa Turpin went to the Parkinson’s Christmas party.

* * * * *

Being back at school is weird at first. Everyone is walking on tiptoes around you, unsure of what they can say. Unsure of what will set you off. And the school dynamic has shifted. It’s getting to a point where everyone knows someone who’s been hurt. Eloise is gone. Zacharias in alternatively hostile and sad. Ernie is barely letting any emotion through. Justin is scared, and Susan just seems weary.

Things have been going this way for a long while, but you couldn’t see them clearly until now. Now that you have the viewpoint of an outsider.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _How is it being back at Hogwarts? I miss you. I miss everyone, even Snape, as funny as that sounds. I especially miss being in a band. Padma says we'll meet up over the summer hols, but at this rate, I’m not sure my dad will let me. He doesn’t even let me go to Diagon Alley with him. I’m sick of staying inside doing nothing._

 _Sorry to be such a downer. I’ll try to make my next letter more upbeat._

 _Love,  
Eloise_

 _Dear Eloise,_

 _I’m sorry things are so rotten. I hate that You-Know-Who is messing up our lives so much. Things at Hogwarts aren’t that great, either. We aren’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade anymore, and more kids are getting pulled out of school every day. Padma and Parvati’s parents are threatening to make them leave, and Professor Sprout is hinting that it’s not safe for me to leave school for my internship anymore. But it’s the only thing keeping me sane._

 _I miss my mum._

 _Love,  
Hannah_

* * * * *

“Destination, Determination, Deliberation,” you mutter, not understanding how this could possibly work. Why didn’t the instructor give you better instructions? It couldn’t be just a matter of twirling around; if it were, you’d have been Apparating constantly as a kid.

The instructor tells everyone to try, and you spin as told, but you stay firmly away from the hoop, just like you expected to. Ernie manages to leap into his hoop (that was actually really impressive. Did he take ballet as a kid?) and looks absolutely thrilled until someone starts snickering at him.

After several more attempts, you are sure that Apparating is impossible, and non one in this room has any hopes of ever achieving it. And the, suddenly, Susan and her leg are on opposite ends of the room.

After the lesson is over, Susan is surrounded by admirers, all asking how it was, and what it felt like.

* * * * *

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _I’m sorry schools sucks. Is there anything good at all? At least you get to see people. Ernie told me that Susan splinched herself during Apparation class. I’d give anything to start preparing to get my Apparation license, but Dad won’t start teaching me. Says he wants to know where I am at all times. He hides the Floo powder now. I’d say he was being overprotective, except that I’m not sure if I wouldn’t run away to Hogwarts, given half a chance._

 _There I go, writing about how much my life sucks again. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do that. But this stupid war is just ruining everything. I just want to be a normal teenager, doing normal teenage things. I want to learn to Apparate, and have my band back, and worry about stupid teenage things like boys. And now I’m sitting around in a Fideloused house waiting for the war to end so that I can have my life back. Is that too much to ask for? A normal teenage life? By the time this stupid war ends, it’ll be to late for that._

 _Bloody You-Know-Who._

 _Love,  
Eloise_

 _Dear Eloise,_

 _I finally managed to Apparate into the hoop. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as I hoped it would be, but I can live with that._

 _There’s a moment in Apparation where you’re not in one place or another. The instructor says it’s for less than a second, but you can feel it. You’re in this in-between place, and it’s pushing you out into the world, and it kind of hurts, and you wonder why you didn’t just stay put._

 _That’s where I feel like I’m at in my life right now._

 _Love,  
Hannah_

* * * * *

The big day arrives, and you walk to Hogsmeade with the others who are taking their Apparation tests. Ernie, much to his chagrin, is still too young, and Justin doesn’t think he’s ready to take the test, you Zacharias and Susan are the only of your close friends who are with you. Susan, being one of the best in the class, is confident, but Zacharias looks as if he’s about to puke.

“Come on, cheer up,” you tell him. “If we fail, we can take the test over the summer with Ernie.”

“My parents won’t let me take it during the summer. They don’t want me to go to the Ministry when everything’s so unsafe. I’d have to take it next fall, and you’ll all have already passed it,” he says gloomily.

“Justin won’t. His parents are Muggles, they won’t be able to take him to the Ministry.”

“Will you two stop being so negative? You’re both going to do fine. You’ve Apparated before.”

“Not for a test though,” Zacharias says, refusing to be cheered up.

As it turns out, though, Susan is exactly right, and all three of you leave Hogsmeade the proud owners of an Apparation License.

Your mum would have been proud. She was always talking about all of the things you would do together once you got your Apparation License, like going to America.

You’re never going to America with your mum.

* * * * *

On the last day of your internship, Timothy tells you that the Ministry didn’t renew his grant. “We’ve discovered next to nothing, and what we do know could just be coincidence. And what with everything that’s been going on, I can understand why the Ministry would have better uses for its money. What this means, though, is that I won’t be able to use you as an intern anymore. I’ll keep studying on my own, because I still think there are things I can figure out, but without the Ministry’s approval, it won’t be accepted as an official student internship. I’m really sorry, Hannah.”

You’ve been expecting this, but you don’t know quite what to say. So many bad things have happened this year, but this hits you hard because it means you don’t have a viable job option after you graduate. Without Transfiguration, you can’t become a Healer, and you were hoping that this could be a close alternative. But what job options are there for someone who has all of the right classes to be a Healer, except Transfiguration, but also has Ancient Runes? You were counting on this panning out.

Timothy is looking at you expectantly, so you finally say, “I’ll miss you.”

“Thanks, Hannah. I’ll miss you, too.”

* * * * *

The night comes back to you in series of images. Harry, running as though everything depended on it. Ernie, telling you that, as Prefects, it’s your duty to investigate. The rubies spilling out of the Gryffindor hourglass, that, in your panic, you mistake for blood. Hagrid’s hut, blazing at the edge of the grounds.

Dumbledore, glasses askew, lying at the bottom of the Astronomy tower.

You wonder if that’s what your mum looked like, when she died.

End of Book Six


	7. Book Seven

“I guess he has to let you go back now, huh?” you say. Eloise nods, and you shift, wishing Floo were a more comfortable way to talk to someone. Lying on your stomach just doesn’t feel that great.

“He’s not pleased. And I’m not either, really. Without Dumbledore… you know? And did you read the paper today?”

“Not yet. I kind of dread looking at it, to tell you the truth. I don’t want to see what horrible thing has happened this time.”

“Well, look for the Muggleborn registration thing. It’s too horrible for words.”

“I’m glad that Justin’s family managed to get out of the country. I hear it’s getting harder to do, and things would be pretty bad for him here.” You dad has actually broached the subject of leaving to you, but you decided it’d be best to finish Hogwarts first.

“I’ll miss him, though,” Eloise says wistfully.

“Hannah!” your dad calls.

“I’ve got to go,” you say quickly, pulling your head out of the flames and grabbing a book to pretend to read. You’re not supposed to use the Floo without your dad’s permission. He doesn’t think it’s safe. But he’s not letting you go out much, either, and you’ve got to keep in touch somehow.

Besides, it’s not like anything’s really safe, these days.

* * * * *

“I would like to say a few words before the start of the feast,” Professor Snape says, staring coldly at the assembled students. “First of all, Dark Arts and Muggle Studies are now required classes for all students. Since Professor Burbage announced her retirement just a few weeks ago, Alecto Carrow will be taking her place.”

A tall woman stands and smiles. There is a small smattering of applause, less from enthusiasm about a new teacher and more from the look on Snape’s face that suggests he’ll curse anyone who doesn’t .

“Additionally, since the board of governors has seen fit to appoint me headmaster,” His mouth twists into what on someone else might look like a smile. “Amycus Carrow will take my place as Dark Arts teacher.” After everyone claps for the second Professor Carrow, Snape continues. “Now, I’m only going to say this once, so it’d be best if you listened, and tried to understand, as difficult as that may be for some of you.” As usual, he has the talent of maintaining an entire room’s attention without even raising his voice. “There is a war going on. However, I see no reason for it to interfere with your education. I myself attended Hogwarts during wartime. But nobody- I’ll repeat, nobody- is permitted to discuss political views that oppose those of the Ministry of Magic.”

“Is he serious?” Ernie whispers.

“Hogwarts has vowed to respect the position of the Ministry,” Snape continues. “Therefore, I have selected Professors Carrow to be the heads of discipline at this school. The Ministry has approved of them as impartial leaders. If you have any problems, you must go to the, rather than your head of house, to discuss them. When necessary, the Carrows will bring problems to me, and I will address them directly. Is this quite understood?”

There is a sound of general assent from the students.

“Then the feast may being,” Professor Snape says, sitting down.

* * * * *

With Muggle Studies added, you have a particularly full schedule this year, and with your internship over, you’re taking Potions again. On the first day of Muggle Studies, you walk into the classroom completely unsure of what to expect. All of your friends are waiting in the classroom, but Justin and Susan leave a notable gap in your group. You’re worried about Susan’s absence. You at least knew that Justin would be gone, but you had assumed that she would be returning.

Guess you shouldn’t assume things.

You share this class with the Ravenclaws, and as students file in, you notice more gaps. Lisa Turpin is gone, and John McKinney. Padma, sitting by herself in the corner, looks pale, and you notice that she seems incomplete without her Prefect’s badge.

Because, what with the new discipline structure and half the Prefects missing anyways, they’ve overturned the Prefect system.

“All right, take your seats,” Professor Carrow says, entering the room. “This is the seventh year Muggle Studies class. If that’s not where you’re supposed to be, now would be a good time to leave.” She smiles. “This year will be divided into four units, with a research paper to be completed at the end of each. I don’t give extensions, so please turn in your work in a timely manner.” She taps the board with her wand. “These are the topics for the units we’ll cover. I expect you to write them down.”

You get out a piece of parchment and a quill, then read the board.

 _Unit One: Muggle Warfare  
An intensive study of how and why Muggles fight. ___

 _Unit Two: Separate but Equal  
A closer look at Muggle/Magical relationships, how we’ve been oppressed, and what can be done to change this. ___

 _Unit Three: Muggle Systems of Government  
An introspective look into how the Muggle world is run, and how they use and distribute power. ___

 _Unit Four: The Threat of Muggle Blood  
A discussion based unit on the dangers Muggleborns pose to society, and what can be done about it. ___

You carefully copy this down. For the rest of the class period, Professor Carrow gives a brief overview of Muggle weaponry, a subject that was never covered in your earlier Muggle Studies classes. When the class ends, you’re a little sad that it does.

Ernie has a confused look on his face as you walk to the common room for your free period, and as soon as you’re inside, he asks, “So, is she evil or isn’t she?”

“She seems nice,” you say. “Why would you think she’s evil? A little misguided, maybe, but evil?”

“A lot of what she wrote on the board made it seem like she was a blood purist. Why would she be teaching us about Muggles being a threat if she wasn’t evil? I don’t trust that kind of talk. But she didn’t seem to be saying it in a mean way. So, do you think she’s evil, or not?”

“Do you even have to ask that?” Zacharias bursts out angrily. “My mum’s a Muggle, and she’s one of the most wonderful people you’ll ever meet! All of that stuff about Muggles being dangerous was utter bull! Do _you _think my mum’s evil? How can you just go on about how nice and sweet this woman is, when she’s teaching us how to think like a Death Eater?”__

“So, you think she’s evil, then?” Ernie asks in a transparent attempt to lighten the mood.

“Whatever. I don’t even care,” Zacharias says, and stomps up the stairs to his dorm.

* * * * *

Your first class with the other Professor Carrow is quite different. The first thing he does, after slamming the door and walking to the front of the room, is the same as what Professor Moody did: shows you the Unforgivable Curses. Only he does it on turtles, and with a smile on his face that shows quite clearly how much he enjoys his job. There’s no talk from him about constant vigilance.

“Pain,” he says quietly. “That’s your first lesson. Anyone can cause pain, and anyone can feel it, so you wanna make sure you’re the one on the causin’ end of the wand. I ain’t gonna teach you these curses today. But someday soon, I’ll be teachin’ them, and you’d better be ready.”

You shiver.

He spends the rest of the class outlining old magic that you’re pretty sure is dangerous, such as Fiendfyre, then tells you that you’re free to go.

“But always be comin’ to class ready,” he chuckles. “You never know when I might give you a practical lesson.”

* * * * *  
You can’t believe that the Carrows are related. While Amycus is teaching you to be ruthless, and how to perform illegal magic, Alecto is facilitating lively discussions about nuclear bombs. You are really enjoying her methods of teaching, which seem to be just to let the students follow what they’re interested in.

You’ve learned not to discuss this with Zacharias.

One day, on your way to the Great Hall, you see large, livid yellow words painted on the wall. _Dumbldore’s Army, Still Recruiting. _During your free period, Ernie approaches you in the common room. “Well?” he whispers excitedly.__

“Well, what?” you ask.

“Are we going to join? After seeing the graffiti, I checked my coin. You know, the ones from fifth year? There’s a meeting tomorrow at seven. So, are you going?”

“Depends.” You lower your voice. “What are they doing?”

“I asked Seamus. He said that he’s not sure, but that Ginny, Neville, and that Lovegood girl from Ravenclaw got detention for trying to steal something from Snape.”

“Ernie- I just don’t know. It sounds- dangerous, you know? And after what happened to my mum- I just can’t, you know?”

“I’d think, after what happened to your mother, that you’d want to do this even more. I’ve already talked to Zacharias and Eloise, and they’re in. Come on, Hannah. This is our chance to actually do something.”

“Do what? Graffitti the walls? Steal stuff? That’s not my idea of resisting You-Know-Who.”

“Just come to the first meeting, Hannah. If you don’t want to come again, you don’t have to.”

“No.”

“But, Hannah-”

“Ernie, I said no! ” you yell, surprising yourself. You can’t do this. Can’t be a part of something so dangerous.

“Fine. Live in your safe little bubble, if that’s what you want. But as for me, I’m going to do my best to help Justin, and people like him.” Ernie walks up the stairs to his dormitory and slams the door.

You burst into tears. Part of you really wants to go to the meeting, but you’re terrified. You have no idea what your mum was involved in, but it was something that made You-Know-Who want her dead. And you couldn’t do that, to yourself or your dad.

But lying in bed that night, you wonder if you really said no because you just weren’t brave enough.

* * * * *

You wait up in bed for Eloise, the night of the first meeting. Much to your surprise, so does Sally-Anne.

As soon as Eloise closes the door of the dormitory, you begin to ask questions. “What was it like?”

“It was kind of weird. I mean, I wasn’t part of it last time, but it just felt- tense, I guess. The war felt more real than it has since we got back to Hogwarts.” She pulls off her robes and stars putting on pajamas.

“Who’s in charge?”

“That Ginny Weasley girl. And Luna Lovegood, and that quiet kid- what’s his name? He’s our year, in Gryffindor, his face is kind of chubby-“

“Neville Longbottom?” you ask.

“Yeah! You know him?”

“We were pretty good friends when we were kids.”

“Did you find out anything about what’s going on?” Sally-Anne asks. “The _Prophet _is complete rubbish these days, and the Carrows have banned the _Quibbler _. I’m dying for news.” She looks worried, and you wonder briefly who she knows who’s fighting.____

“I did.” Eloise lowers her voice and looks quickly around the room. With Susan gone, you’re the only ones there. “And brace yourself, girls. Ginny says that Snape killed Dumbledore.”

“What?”

“She says, um, Harry told her. Says he was there. And he’s always been pretty honest, hasn’t he? I mean, I don’t know why he’d lie about something like that, and Ginny seemed pretty sure.”

“But that doesn't make any sense,” Sally-Anne says impatiently. “Why would he do that? Everyone knows that Dumbledore was killed by a Death Eater. The castle was swarming with them that night.”

“Ginny seems to think that Snape is a Death Eater. And that’s not all. She says,um, that the new teachers are Death Eaters, too.” She rushes through the last sentence, as though afraid to say it.

“The Carrows? I can’t see that,” you say. _Well, maybe Amycus. ___

“That’s rubbish,” Sally-Anne says dismissively. “Did you get any _real _news?”__

Eloise looks hurt. “Ginny’s whole family is in the Order of the Phoenix, practically, and she says-“

“I don’t give a rat’s arse what Ginny Weasley says about the stupid Order of the Phoenix! What I want to know is whether my brother is all right. He’s been missing for a month now, okay? So unless the Order of the Phoenix knows where Sean Perks is, I’m going to sleep!” She pulls her curtains shut forcefully and turns off her lamp.

Eloise looks at you, but you just shrug. You ‘re not really in the mood to talk. You have to much information to digest.

* * * * *

A couple days later, Professor Carrow pulls you aside after Muggle Studies and asks you to stay back for a couple of minutes.

“I’ll write a note for your next teacher if I make you late to class. I just wanted to tell you that your essay on the American War of Independence was phenomenal. I particularly enjoyed the point you made about the necessity of the two nations to split.”

“Thank you.”

“I was wondering if you would be willing to give a presentation about it next week. You’d get extra credit, naturally.”

Into your head, out of nowhere, pops Eloise’s voice. _The new teachers are Death Eaters, too. _you push the thought aside. “I’d love to,” you tell her. After all, it’s not like you leading a class would help You-Know-Who even if Professor Carrow was a Death Eater.__

That night, Eloise goes to another meeting, but when she gets back she doesn’t tell you a thing.

* * * * *

You walk into Muggle Studies, notes in hand, a full fifteen minutes before class starts. Every couple of minutes you look anxiously at the clock, wondering when everyone else will get here. But when class starts, there are only three other people there. Sally-Anne, Anthony Goldstein, and Lara McDonald.

“Go on, Hannah,” Professor Carrow says encouragingly. “I can assure you that the absent students will be dealt with accordingly.”

You’re standing in front of the class, and it’s just like a nightmare, because you can’t seem to open your mouth. How could all of your friends have skipped this? Sally-Anne catches your eye and smiles, and you know that you have to start talking.

But before you can open your mouth, Lara gasps, and you turn around to see words forming on the board.

 _What is truth?_

 _Witches and Wizards have a lot of power. We fix things with the swish of a wand, and can create almost as easily. But we don’t share this power. If we shared even just our healing magic with Muggles, who knows how many lives we can save? ___

 _Muggles have a lot of knowledge. They’ve figured out how to do just about everything we can, without any magic at all. If we combined resources, Muggles and Magical people would both benefit. So why don’t we? ___

 _Muggles don’t keep our world oppressed. Our greed any unwillingness to share our world is what’s kept us oppressed._

 _So what is truth? The stories we tell might be true. But they’re not the whole truth._

 _We look for truths that make us comfortable._

“Class today is cancelled. I will try to get a reading on the magical signatures to see who did this. If nothing else, we can assume any absent students without a signed certification of illness by Madame Pomfrey were responsible. Hannah, your presentation is rescheduled for next class.” Professor Carrow waves her wand, and the board erases itself.

You go to the common room, but it’s uncannily empty, so you and Sally-Anne go to the library to work on your charms essays. Neither of you says a word.

* * * * *

You know that something’s wrong the minute you step into the Dark Arts classroom. Both Carrows are there, and everyone who should have been in Muggle Studies is line up at the front of the room, even the Ravenclaws, which is odd since this is a class you share with the Slytherins.

“Hannah,” Alecto Carrow says as you walk in. “Please stand at the front.”

“Well, well, well,” says her brother, brushing his hands together. “I told ya’ we’d be ahavin’ a practical lesson before too long. And as it’s Miss Abbott who these folks offended, it seemed suitin’ that she be the one to punish them.”

 _What is going on? _You look questioningly at Professor Carrow, but it’s his sister that explains.__

“These students did you great disrespect by disrupting a class that you were facilitating, Hannah. And Amycus did want you kids to get in some practice with the Cruciatus Curse.”

“This one bit me,” he says, pulling Zacharias forward. “I think we’ll have Miss Abbott start with him. After that, we’ll let these other chillums have a turn.”

You can’t move. Can breathe. They want you to curse Zacharias?

“Go on, Hannah,” Professor Carrow says. She gently pushes you forward.

You look at Zacharias. He glares back unflinchingly, as though daring you to try it. For a minute, you flash back to Fourth Year, when Professor Moody did the Cruciatus Curse on a spider. _You have to mean it. _Maybe, if your heart’s really not in it, you won’t hurt him.__

But you still don’t want to risk it.

“Miss Abbott,” Professor Carrow says warningly, drawing his wand. “If you don’t gots the balls to do this, maybe we’s best be putting you up there on the receiving end.”

You look back at Zacharais, trying to apologize with your eyes. You lift your wand slowly and point it at his chest. “Cr-crucio,” you whisper, tears pooling behind your eyes. _Pleasedon’tworkpleasedon’tworkpleasedon’tworkpleasedon’tworkplease- ___

Zacharias falls forward, and his scream rips the air. You can tell your curse wasn’t as successful as it would have been if one of the Carrows had done it, but the spell did work. You lower your wand, horrified at what you’ve done.

“Congratulations, Hannah,” Professor Carrow says. “You seem to have a knack for this spell.”

You’re not listening. You’re running, running across the room and pushing past people until you’re sprinting to the nearest bathroom and you’re violently ill, head hanging over the toilet and then suddenly someone’s there, holding your hair and what’s she doing here, anyways, she should be in class, and you can’t be good at the Cruciatus Curse, it’s Dark Magic and you’re a good person and your head is in Pansy’s lap and she’s stroking your hair. And oh God, your mouth tastes bad, and you wish you had your toothbrush with you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask when you’re able to talk.

“I told Professor Carrow that you sometimes had a bad reaction to doing powerful magic, and asked if I could make sure you were okay.”

“But I don’t have a bad reaction to powerful magic.”

“I know. I lied. Slytherin, remember?” She smiles a little bit, and you notice she looks worn out. “Besides, I didn’t want to have to curse anyone.”

“Why?”

“Same reason you didn’t. I don’t hate any of those people they wanted us to curse. I don’t agree with a lot of them, but I don’t hate them. Just like I don’t hate you.” A serious look comes onto her face. “Look, Hannah, don’t do whatever they’re doing, okay? It’s too dangerous.”

“But they’re just trying to make things better.”

“Well, they’re just making things worse. Pass this message on, Hannah, okay? Tell them that it’s better to look out for yourself. Keep your head down, because in just a couple of months, we’ll have graduated, and then they can do what they want. Have their big revolution without putting the rest of us at stake. Or they could do the smart thing and get the hell out of here. A Hogwarts diploma will get you a job just about anywhere. A prison record won’t.”

“Is that what you’re going to do? Get the hell out of here?”

Pansy nods. “What else is there to do? I’m not joining You-Know-Who.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Switzerland maybe. Or Italy. Away.”

“Oh.”

You sit like that for a while long, head still on Pansy’s lap, and all you can think about is how you’ve come full circle. How, six years ago (has it really been that long?), it was you comforting her because she’d lost the House Cup.

* * * * *

Going back to the Common Room is one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. You’re not sure you can face the looks on your friend’s faces, but you think that this is the sort of thing that’s best done quick, like drinking Pepper-Up Potion.

You’re expecting a few minutes to gain composure before the confrontation, but Zacharias, Ernie, and Eloise are waiting for you, arms crossed.

“Congratulations, Hannah,” Zacharias says, in an uncanny impression of Alecto Carrow’s voice. “You seem to have a talent for torturing your friends.”

“Zacharias, I—”

“You what, forgot what that spell does? Didn’t realize it was a wand you were holding, not a drum stick? What, exactly, were you going to say that would make it okay that you did the Cruciatus Curse on me?”

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” you burst out desperately. “He was going to torture me!”

“Then you should have let him,” Ernie says quietly. “That’s what every one of us would have done for you.”

“Would you have? You didn’t ever show up to my presentation in Muggle Studies!” It seems like such a trivial thing to be upset about, but you can’t stop yourself from flinging that in his face. “That’s what started this whole thing!”

“Is that a good reason to torture your friends?” Ernie demands.

“I didn’t say that, I just-“

“Where’s your sense of loyalty? What kind of Hufflepuff are you?”

“Oh, she’s loyal, all right. Just not to us,” Zacharias says, walking towards you. “Eloise was right. You are in the Carrows’ pocket.”

You look at Eloise, but she’s staring fixedly at her feet. You’re about to turn back to Zacharias, trying desperately to think of a retort, when Sally-Anne gets up from her armchair in the corner. At six foot one, she dwarfs both Zacharias and Ernie, and Eloise is still staring that the ground as though attempting wandless magic on it.

“Why can’t you leave Hannah alone?” Sally-Anne demands, walking forwards. “Don’t you think she’s having a bad enough day as it is? I saw her face when Professor Carrow told her to torture Zacharias. She was terrified. Your stupid group is just making things hard for the rest of us. Maybe you should think about somebody other than yourselves.” She storms towards your dormitory, then turns. “Come on, Hannah.”

You follow in silence.

* * * * *

Sally-Anne and Pansy are the only people who will speak to you. Sally-Anne is really nice, but up until now you really didn’t know her at all, so even though you’re glad to be friends, it’s not the same as have Ernie, Zacharias, and Eloise back. If only Susan were her, you’re sure that _she _would speak to you.__

Pansy is now talking to you more regularly than she has since before Hogwarts, and you often do your homework together in the library. You know now that this war scares her as much as it does you, and that makes it easier to be friends with her. At one point, she invites you to sit at the Slytherin table with her, but you say no. You don’t want to give your housemates any further reasons to hate you.

In the end, there’s only one thing you can think to do. You have to get your friends speaking to you again, and you need to be brave. If someone had been brave, your mum might not be dead. Of course, your mum might also be dead because she was being brave, but you’re never going to know what really happened, and you can’t let her death get in the way of living your life.

At first, you’re not sure how to go about it, but then Neville asks to be your partner for an Herbology project, and you seize your chance.

“I want to join,” you say quietly as you’re walking from the Greenhouse to the castle.

It takes him a minute to understand what you’re trying to say, but then he nods. “You still have the money Hermione loaned you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll have to sign up officially. Gobstones Club doesn’t like surprise members.”

For a minute, you think he’s actually talking about Gobstones Club, but then you realize that’s ridiculous. “Okay. I’ll sign up when I come to a meeting.”

“And Hannah?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back. Gobstones Club hasn’t been the same without you.”

* * * * *

It takes you longer than you expect to ditch Pansy on the night of your first meeting, and you walk into the Room of Requirement ten minutes late. Heads turn to look at you as you open the door.

“Hannah! I was worried you weren’t coming,” Neville says from the front of the room.

“What is _she _doing here?” Zacharias demands.__

Neville’s face clouds over with confusion. “She asked to join, and I said yes. Is there a problem?”

“Yes, I’d bloody well say there’s a problem!” Ernie says. You’ve never heard him swear before. “She performed the Cruciatus Curse on Zacharias! She’s probably just here to gather information for her precious Carrows.”

“Is that true?” Neville asks, looking from you to Ernie to Zacharias with worry.”

“You prats, of course it’s not true!” Ginny says impatiently. “Do _you _see any Sneakoscopes spinning? If Hannah were fixing to betray us, they’d be going off like mad.”__

“Well, maybe she’s not planning it now, but she will,” Ernie says, still glaring at you.

“Hannah, would you mind writing your name here?” Neville asks, handing you a piece of parchment. You take it and sign, the give it back. “There,” he says, tapping the parchment with his want to fold it up. “Ginny put a tongue-tying hex on this, and we all know her hexes are superb, so even Ernie can’t argue with that, although he looks as if he wants to. Now, let’s begin.”

* * * * *

You walk into Zacharias and Ernie’s compartment on the train back to Hogwarts after the hols, feeling not entirely at ease. They’re finally speaking to you again, but things between the three of you are definitely strained. It doesn’t help that Neville suggested you stay close to the Carrows, both to avoid suspicion and to gather information. They haven’t had you use the Cruciatus Curse again (at least, not on people,) but they still often ask you to do things that make your skin crawl.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the seat across from Ernie.

“Hello. How was your Christmas?”

“It was okay. My dad and I didn’t talk much, but it’s nice to see him again.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

You sit in awkward silence for several minutes, until Seamus Finnegan comes into your compartment. “Can I sit with you?”

“Of course,” Ernie says.

“Thanks.” Seamus looks relieved. “Usually I’d sit with Neville and Ginny, but they’re going up and down the train looking for Luna.”

“She’s not here?” Ernie asks sharply.

“No, but I’m not worried. Knowing Luna, she’ll come to Hogwarts riding on the back of that Crumple-Horned Snorkack she’s always talking about.”

Ernie looks unsure, and you know how he feels. With everything going on right now, even little things like this could mean trouble.

“How were your holidays?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“I spent some time with me mam. That was nice. Blimey, though, I miss Dean. We always used to spend the hols together. Almost makes me wish he’d pulled a Creevey, you know?”

“A what?” you ask.

“Didn’t you hear? Seamus leans in and casts a Silencing Charm around your compartment. “Colin and Dennis Creevey faked their blood lines. Managed to pass for half-blood. That’s why they’re still at Hogwarts. You never wondered about that?”

Zacharias tears his eyes from the window, where he’s been staring fixedly. “You’d best not be spreading stuff like that around, mate. Never know who could be listening.”

“You still think Hannah here’s a spy, then? Blimey, I don’t know how she even puts up with you.”

“I wasn’t talking about Hannah. Just think you should be a little more careful.”

“I think I can look out for myself, thanks.”

Zacharias turns fully so that everyone in the compartment can see his right cheek, which bears three angry red scars. “The Carrows did this to me during a detention right before the holidays. You know why I got detention? Because I wrote in an essay that I think we need Muggle-borns or we’ll die out.”

When you’d asked before the holidays about the scars, Zacharias had refused to tell you.

“They Imperiused me. Made me cut into my own face.”

“That’s-that’s horrible, mate,” Seamus said shakily.

“All I’m saying is that there’s a price for these things, and I don’t think the Creeveys really deserve to pay it, do you?” He turns without waiting for a response and resumes staring out the window.

* * * * *

“Luna’s missing,” Neville says quietly when everyone is gathered. “On the way home for the holidays, she left our compartment to go to the loo and never returned. I thought she’d just gotten distracted and forgot to come back. She does that sometimes. But she still isn’t back. We think she was taken by Death Eaters.” His voice breaks as he says this. “What we’re doing is incredibly dangerous. If any of you want to stop, I’d completely-”

“Who said anything about quitting?” Zacharias asks. He walks to the front of the room. “If anything, this means we should fight harder. It’s people like Luna that we’re fighting for. People like Luna, and Dean Thomas, and Justin. Even the sodding Golden Trio. We’re fighting to create a world were things like this _don’t happen. _And I know that Luna wouldn’t abandon us. So who’s with me?”__

This speech is meet with loud applause. “Oh. Well, great,” Neville says, looking relieved. “So, does anyone have news?”

“I was talking to Fred and George over Christmas, and they told me about a new radio station.” Ginny launches into a description of Potterwatch. You look around the room, proud of these wonderful people who are willing to fight for what they believe in.

* * * * *

There are no speeches when Ginny fails to return after Easter. There’s only action

Neville asks Alecto Carrow how much Muggle blood she has. Seamus charms Snape’s robes pink, using a complicated spell that keeps Snape locked in his office for hours undoing. Attacks on Slytherins have become a daily occurrence, but you don’t know any Hufflepuffs who participate. That’s more in the Gryffindor line of work. Padma and Terry charm the school speakers to play news from Potterwatch around the clock, which unfortunately is dismantled after only an hour. You’re failing half your classes because you’re putting so much energy into this resistance, but it hardly matters. It’s not like you want good grades so you can work in a world that belongs to You-Know-Who.

Graffiti is in all of the bathrooms, being put up faster than Filch can paint over it. Notes in the margins of library books ask questions designed to undermine the Carrows’ propaganda.

Your group of Hufflepuffs manages a particularly tricky jinx that causes anyone at Hogwarts who uses the word “Mudblood” to become unable to use the letter “m” until midnight. This is particularly amusing when it happens to Professor Carrow during Muggle Studies.

When you have the time, you still do your homework in the library with Pansy, but now you sit in silence rather than speak.

* * * * *

It’s not until the Carrows begin going after first years that you realize that you’re in over your head. And the first years haven’t even done anything. It’s the Carrows’ way of getting to you. When the D.A. acts up and they can’t find the culprit, a first year is punished in their place.

Michael tries to stop it the first time it happens. He makes it all the way to the dungeons and has begun to undo the chains when he’s caught. You can hear his screams from the Great Hall.

It’s this that effectively shuts down the D.A. You still meet, but it’s riskier now, and there’s less and less that can actually be done without serious repercussions. And pretty soon, the Carrows are after your group, and this time they’re out for blood, pure or otherwise.

Neville is the first to retreat entirely to the Room of Requirement, and others follow soon after. The Carrows still think you’re on their side, especially after all of your Muggle Studies presentations, so you’re safe. Ernie and Zacharias, on the other hand, are among the first to go into hiding.

You’re absolutely terrified of what might happen. Every time you go to a D.A. meeting, you know you’ll get caught. You never look at your fake galleon in public, for fear of arousing suspicion, and every time you hang out with Pansy, you wonder if it’s just because it makes you safer.

Slytherins are safe from everyone but Gryffindors.

Even with that fear, you’re one of the first back to the room when you get the message that Harry’s here. Now, finally, something will happen. You are there to hear all of Harry’s exceedingly disappointing speech about how he doesn’t need help. You see student’s who’ve graduated coming through the passage. You see Seamus’s delight at the return of his best friend, and wish that you could share that feeling.

But all you feel is scared.

 _It’s not right, _you tell yourself firmly as Harry concedes defeat and allows the D.A.s help. These people have all protected you, and they deserve your help. You may not be brave like a Gryffindor, or smart like a Ravenclaw, or even cunning, like a Slytherin, but you’re loyal, like a Hufflepuff, and you have to see this through.__

Harry leaves, and it seems like hours before his return. The room fills with people, but it’s as silent as a wake. When Harry finally comes back and tells you to go to the Great Hall, you’re relieved to be finally doing something. Anything is better than this waiting.

Professor McGonagall talks about evacuation, and how to get home, until Ernie yells, “And what if we want to stay and fight?”

“If you are of age, you may stay.”

You’re proud of Ernie for asking, but displeased with your teacher’s response. What about Luna and Ginny, who both had summer birthdays, but had worked so hard at this resistance? It doesn’t seem quite fair. Without them leading the D.A., this might not even be happening. If they want to fight, they shouldn’t be forced to go home because they were too young.

When You-Know-Who’s voice enters the hall, you scream involuntarily. Even though you’ve never heard it before, you know who’s speaking at once.

“You have until midnight,” he finishes.

Pansy points and shrieks, “But he’s there! Potter’s _there! _Someone grab him!”__

Even as you’re standing with your friends to protect Harry, you pity her. You know how hard things are for Pansy, and how much she just wanted to get out here. Now she’s face with the possibility that she might die, that all of her self-preservation would have been for nothing.

You notice that Professor McGonagall doesn’t invite the Slytherins to stay and fight.

When everyone divides into groups, you go to Fred and George’s almost without thinking. Guarding passages puts you out of the direct line of fire, but allows you to still be helpful.

Before you leave the Great Hall, Zacharias stops you. “I’m going to say goodbye to you now.”

“You’re leaving?” You don’t want to think of any other reasons he might be saying goodbye.

“Hannah, someone has to find Justin. Sure, he might have made it out of the country, but he might have been caught, and I don’t like his odds of surviving if he was. If we lose tonight, and we might, I want to know that someone managed to save him. Everything’s so chaotic right now, so I might actually have a chance.” He envelopes you in a bear hug, then takes off running.

When you make it to the passage with your group, there are a few very tense minutes in which you just stand there, wand raised, every spell you know running through your head. Then the statue explodes, and you can hardly think.

It’s instinct that get s you out of the way, and before your brain can stop you you’re shouting every curse that Harry and Neville ever managed to teach you. You feel a grim sense of satisfaction as you manage a Shield Charm powerful enough to block the Cruciatus Curse.

Then a well aimed spell hits you in the back, and you fall to the ground.

* * * * *

“Ennervate,” says Ernie’s firm voice. You come to on the cold floor. “That spell must have hit you pretty hard. You were knocked out. Come on.” He grabs your hand and starts pulling. “Let’s go help Neville.”

You let him lead you down the stairs.

“Merlin, don’t ever scare me like that again. I thought you were dead for sure.” His voice is faster paced than usual, and you can tell that he’s struggling to regain his usual sense of calm and purpose. “I’m so glad I thought to check your pulse. The Death Eaters must have thought you were dead, or they would have finished you off.”

“You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses.”

“Oh, God,” you say hoarsely. “Who have we lost?” If one of your friends has died, you don’t think you’ll be able to take it.

“I don’t know.” Ernie looks lost and sad. “I don’t know.

“Lord Voldemort is merciful,” the voice continues. “I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”

“Where are they keeping injured people?” you ask.

“That’s what I was about to tell you. Neville’s trying to get the dead and injured into the Great Hall.”

You are bolting down the stairs, not even listening to You-Know-Who anymore. People are dying, and you might be able to help. Timothy managed to teach you a few tricks before your internship ended, and they can always use more hands when trying to Heal people.

In the Great Hall, Seamus and Madame Pomfrey are going from person to person providing what help they can. You remember Seamus once telling you his plan to become a Healer.

“How can I help?” you ask him.

He hands you a bottle of dittany. “Use it sparingly. We’re almost out. Slughorn ran to his stores to get more, but he’s more likely hiding behind his office door, whimpering. I know his type.”

An hour passes quickly as you are forced to assess who needs the dittany most, and who it might be too late for. Some, like Lavendar Brown, are right on the brink of death. After a moment of indecision, you put dittany on all of her wounds, and don’t for a moment regret the loss of potion.

When You-Know-Who’s voice wakes you from the pattern you’ve formed, you jump, and have to return spilt dittany to the bottle with your wand.

“Harry Potter is dead.”

Your blood runs cold as You-Know-Who talks of Harry’s running away, and calls everyone to join him. You don’t want to believe that Harry would do that, but, truth be told, you barely know him. You have no idea what he would do.

Everyone who can walk goes out the front door, wanting proof that it isn’t true, that it can’t be true. But there in front of you is Hagrid, holding Harry’s limp body.

When You-Know-Who brings Neville forwards, you’re terrified beyond belief, but Neville shows incredible courage, and ends up even killing You-Know-Who’s snake.

Well, he is a Gryffindor.

The rest is history. Everyone knows the story of Harry defeating the Dark Lord, once and for all. That’s the story that parents tell they’re children, that’s passed down from the people who boast proudly that they were there to see it.

Everyone tells the story of the Gryfindor, who is brave and noble and triumphs over evil. Nobody tells the story of the good friend, the hard worker. Even Cedric Diggory is only remembered by his untimely death. Nobody tells the story of the girl who curses off her nose, or the boy who is pompous only because he’s scared. They are the onlookers, the side notes to the text. They are the Hufflepuffs.

You are a Hufflepuff.

You are Hannah Abbott, and this story belongs to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this. It's my first lengthy fic, and I hope you liked it.


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